The Internet Police: The Will of the Internet
by TheInventor
Summary: The internet is a wild and chaotic place that we use everyday to work, to shop, and to play. The only thing standing between the threats of the internet and you is the Internet Police. When HurricaneAubrey encounters Internet Police agents known as the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd, little did she knew that she would join in the fight against the scum of the web.
1. Orientation, Part 1

**I do not own any of the internet personalities or memes presented in this story. **

The Internet Police: The Will of the Internet

Orientation, Part 1

In the faraway land of Chicago, the office workers at the Norman Greeting Card Company were manufacturing various greeting cards. These greeting cards ranged from mediocre to downright horrible, with one card consisting of a crudely drawn anatomically correct heart for Valentine's Day. The office workers were yawning behind their desks as they continued to make the greeting cards without much care or attention. Behind one of these desks was a young brunette woman by the name of Aubrey Aiese. A native of Brooklyn, Aubrey was a minor internet celebrity for her viral video 51 Things I Found Around My House. She was attempting to find employment in a time of great economic uncertainty, and after searching high and low on the internet, she eventually found a job at the Norman Greeting Card Company. After a few days working at the company, she realized that she only chose the job as a means of supporting herself financially. As it turned out, the job was boring beyond belief and was run by Norman Albert, the CEO of the Norman Greeting Card Company. He was a man who could give any gym teacher a run for their money, for he always went berserk when anyone proposed any changes to the abhorrent greeting cards, frequently yelling through his megaphone towards anyone who even attempts to confront him. Thus, it was unsurprising that no one has even tried to defy his identical greeting card policy.

"I'm tired of making the same greeting cards every single day", said Bob Smith, an employee working besides Aubrey. "I have an idea of making these cards actually sing towards people rather than staring blankly into their faces. It will go something like this: We wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year. Norman will be very happy for my idea."

"I wouldn't do that," said Aubrey.

"Come on, Aubrey. What's the worst that could happen?"

But as it turned out, Bob Smith was very, very wrong.

"What on earth is this abomination doing in my company?!" shouted Norman through his megaphone. "Do you realize that people will think that this card is being possessed by an evil spirit? My goodness! People will probably run to their nearest priest for an exorcist. Get this card out of my face! If you step another toe out of line, I will make sure that you are fired and sent to cleaning toilets for the rest of your life. Do you understand me?!"

"Yes sir," replied Bob as he slumped back into his chair in shame.

Norman walked away from Bob Smith and Aubrey Aiese and said in private, "I really need to fire many of these dunderheads as a means of cutting costs."

Aubrey continued to labor at her tedious work making abysmal greeting cards, and resigned herself to the reality that she was going to be working here for a great deal of her life. Little did she know that her entire outlook on life would change as two men entered onto the work floor. One was wearing glasses, khaki pants, and a white shirt with a pen pocket. The other also wore glasses, and his clothes consisted of a black cap, a red tie, a white shirt underneath a black jacket, and blue jeans. The former was known as the Angry Video Game Nerd and the latter was the Nostalgia Critic. Right now, they were loading up their guns and ready to kick ass.

"Let's go in and track down this motherfucker," said the Angry Video Game Nerd as he and the Nostalgia Critic walked through the Norman Greeting Card Company skyscraper.

"I've got the location of our suspect," answered the Angry Video Game Nerd as he looked on the tracking device on an electronic tablet. that pinpointed the location of their suspect. "He's travelling through the building's ventilation system as we speak."

"He must be pretty small to be able to travel through there," said the Nostalgia Critic.

The Angry Video Game Nerd and the Nostalgia Critic were now walking between the desks of yawning office workers, who were all in a stupor as they manufactured various greeting cards.

"He sure is small considering he is a chipmunk," said the Angry Video Game Nerd as he looked at his electronic tablet. "He is called the Dramatic Chipmunk, and he is wanted for attempting to pour poison into the acorns of Chicago's chipmunk population."

"That little fucker will pay for what he is doing to those poor chipmunks," said the Nostalgia Critic as he glanced at his electronic tablet.

"Let's just get on him like a motherfucking hawk," replied the Angry Video Game Nerd.

The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd hurried out of the work floor. What they didn't know was that Aubrey was eavesdropping on their conversation the whole time, with everyone else preoccupied with their work.

"Did the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd, two of the internet's most popular personalities say they were going to arrest a chipmunk for wanting to poison the chipmunk population of Chicago?" asked Aubrey to Bob Smith.

"Nah," answered Bob. "I think we just two people celebrating Halloween a few months early. Go back to work, Aubrey."

But Aubrey couldn't go back to work. Feeling curious and a bit adventurous, she got up and followed the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd behind stealthily. After a few tense minutes of avoiding the attention of the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd, Aubrey found herself in the Norman Greeting Card Company's acorn warehouse. Why a greeting card company needed to store acorns was beyond her comprehension. Maybe Norman Albert preferred nuts over other hobbies. Suddenly, the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game spotted the furry bandit over a mountain of crates full of acorns, and he was pouring a green liquid into them.

"There he is, the furry little bastard with his bastardly paws," whispered Nostalgia Critic as he stared at the creature from behind several crates. "That chipmunk is going down."

"Actually, Mr. Critic. He's really a prairie dog," said the Angry Video Game Nerd.

"I don't care if he's a chipmunk, a prairie dog, or a pile of bullshit," stated the Nostalgia Critic. "I fucking hate these chipmunks even though I'm going to protect them. After all, they were the inspiration behind those shitty Alvin and the Chipmunk movies. I mean the Squeakquel? Come on!"

"Let's just take him down!" said the Angry Video Game Nerd as he pointed his gun at the Dramatic Chipmunk.

Just then, the Nostalgia Critic's cell phone rang, and the soundtrack to Young Frankenstein was emitted as its ringtone. At the same time, the Dramatic Chipmunk turned his head around and gave his trademark stare.

"What the fuck!" yelled the Angry Video Game Nerd. "Why did you leave your cell phone on during a mission?"

"Sorry," explained the Nostalgia Critic. "Something important might turn up. Do you like my ringtone? I just love Mel Brooks' Young Frankenstein."

Just then, the Dramatic Chipmunk took out a laser ray gun and began shooting aimlessly at the two agents down below. The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd ducked and dodged the lasers being fired from the Dramatic Chipmunk, with Aubrey being forced to avoid being hit in the crossfire. Aubrey saw the Angry Video Game Nerd shooting his gun repeatedly at the Dramatic Chipmunk, and much to her surprise, the Nostalgia Critic was busy talking on his cell phone.

"Come on, Critic!" shouted the Angry Video Game Nerd as he concentrated his firing power on the Dramatic Chipmunk. "Give me some help!"

"I'm kind of busy!" answered the Nostalgia Critic as he continued talking on his cell phone. "What is it? No, I'm not interested in 50% off designer boxers. I also don't need discounts on Viagra."

"I really need some fucking support, Critic!" yelled the Angry Video Game Nerd as he dodged another laser from the Dramatic Chipmunk.

"You want me to listen to what?!" said the Nostalgia Critic to the salesperson on the phone. "No, no! Anything but that! And don't especially put it on full volume."

Without warning, a song of utmost delight and horror filled the entire warehouse from the cell phone, a song that will be remembered for all eternity.

"Life is like a hurricane, here in Duckburg. Race cars, lasers, aeroplanes-it's a duck blur. You might solve a mystery or rewrite history. Duck Tales, Oo-oo. Tales of daring-do, bad and good luck tales, oo-oo."

"Stop it! Make it stop!" shouted the Dramatic Chipmunk as he fell off the mountain of crates and onto the floor.

The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd rushed towards the fallen animal, and after taking away his laser ray gun, pointed their guns towards him.

"We are the Internet Police. We are sworn to protect the internet from the scum of the web. And you're under arrest for attempting to poison Chicago's chipmunk population," said the Angry Video Game Nerd.

"You moronic apes," mocked the Dramatic Chipmunk. "I'm not trying to poison the chipmunks. I'm trying to hypnotize them with my special green liquid so they can rise up against their human masters and take over the world under a New Chipmunk Order."

"And why would you do that," asked the Nostalgia Critic, "especially since you're a prairie dog?"

"Because I just had it with belonging with my good for nothing prairie dog clan," answered the Dramatic Chipmunk. "I wanted to be a part of the chipmunk clan and aid in their rise against the human race. Through my ingenious plan, the chipmunks would become the masters of the animal kingdom over the puny humans. But most importantly of all, I wanted to contribute to the continuation of the Alvin and the Chipmunk series. There just can't be enough Squeakquels."

"I can sympathize with all of your goals," said the Nostalgia Critic, "except for more Alvin and the Chipmunk movies. I cannot agree with your sinister scheme to inflict these awful movies onto an unsuspecting public. I mean, we don't need more jokes about chipmunks eating poop. The Internet Police has caught you at last."

Aubrey watched as the two men placed the struggling creature into a glass cage. For one moment, she thought that the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd saw her from behind one of the crates, but to her relief, they appeared to not have noticed her. After the two men left the warehouse, Aubrey thought it was safe to return to her work station, and eventually, she sat back at her desk right besides Bob Smith.

"Where were you this whole time?" asked Bob.

"Oh nothing," said Aubrey with a wisp of irony. "The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd just arrested the Dramatic Chipmunk for attempting to hypnotize all of Chicago's chipmunks to create a New Chipmunk Order."

"Oh," said Bob in disbelief. "Well that happens every day, doesn't it."

"Yeah," said Aubrey with an awkward smile as she went back to work on the greeting cards.

In an apartment in Chicago's Little Italy, Aubrey was talking on the videophone with her sister Allison back in Brooklyn.

"Allison. You've got to believe me. I just saw the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd take down the Dramatic Chipmunk in which the little critter tried to kill them with a laser ray gun," said Aubrey as she animated her hands vividly to illustrate the absurdity of the situation.

"That's just crazy talk, Aubrey," replied Allison. "You must be really bored at your job to be coming up with preposterous stories like this."

Aubrey's heart sank as she realized that even her little sister also didn't believe her.

"Listen up, big sis. I know your new job is both stressful and tedious, but I know deep down in my heart that you will be able to put it all together through these times of economic turmoil. Just listen to this song by Lindsey Stirling to cheer you up."

As Lindsey Stirling's song Epic Violin Girl was playing in the background, Aubrey couldn't help but appreciate her little sister's attempt of cheering her up through playing Lindsey Stirling's songs, with this violinist being one of her sister's favorite YouTubers. But as the beats and the vibrating strings were entering Aubrey's ears, Aubrey still couldn't get the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd, two members of the supposedly secret Internet Police, out of her head.

"I have to go now," said Aubrey.

"Okay, big sis. Hope you're feeling better soon," said Allison.

With the videophone turned off, Aubrey began her search on the internet for information regarding the Internet Police. She ventured onto websites like YouTube, Know Your Meme, Wikipedia, and TV Tropes. In all of that time searching, she stumbled across an interesting character proliferated through the World Wide Web known only as Disaster Girl. According to the mythology of the internet, Disaster Girl was the harbinger of doom as she was present in photographs that chronicled events like the extinction of the dinosaurs, the rise of Nazi Germany, and the assassination of President Lincoln and Kennedy.

"Impossible," thought Aubrey to herself. "A cute, innocent girl like her would never do these heinous things."

Moving on from Disaster Girl, Aubrey soon found an article titled Balloon Boy Hoax.

"Ah. The Balloon Boy Hoax. The viral story of how a Colorado family tricked an entire world into believing the fantastic flight of a boy on a balloon," read Aubrey as she continued to gaze at the article.

The article had a photo of police investigators interrogating the father of the balloon boy, who was trying his best not to look guilty. In the corner of the picture were two figures investigating the remnants of the balloon involved in the stunt. Using the zoom feature on her laptop, Aubrey was able to identify the two individuals as the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd based on their physical appearances and their distinct style of clothing. In the picture, the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd were shaking their heads in disbelief over the balloon.

"So the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd are involved in affairs beyond just entertaining the masses," said Aubrey aloud.

The next day, Aubrey headed out to an Italian restaurant in Little Italy. She had made herself at home in this Chicago neighborhood as she was of Italian-descent herself and wanted to feel most at home with her heritage.

"I would like a slice of New York-style pizza please," requested Aubrey towards a waiter.

"I take it you're from Brooklyn," said the waiter. "I can tell from the slight accent in your voice."

"That's correct," said Aubrey. "Now can I please have some New York-style pizza?"

"Wouldn't it be best if you tried some Chicago-style pizza as an introduction to our beloved city, which is in many ways different from your native New York," insisted the waiter.

"I don't know. I'm not the adventurous type," said Aubrey.

"I can assure you that you would love a Chicago-style pizza," said the waiter. "Just give it a chance."

"Oh alright," answered Aubrey with a nervous smile.

The Chicago-style pizza was placed in front of Aubrey, which was deeper and thicker than a New York-style pizza. After a few moments of hesitation, she took a bite out of it, and much to her surprise, it tasted rather good and was comparable to a New York-style pizza in terms of quality.

"Maybe I should become more a risk-taker in life?" thought Aubrey as she continued to eat the Chicago-style pizza.

That opportunity of Aubrey taking more risks in her life would come as she was leaving the restaurant. A DeLorean was passing by the restaurant, and in it, Aubrey saw two men that looked just like the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd. With another opportunity to observe the Internet Police in action, Aubrey got into her car and drove after them. After a few hours of driving, she found herself at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum. She followed the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd into the Presidential Library, and she soon found herself in the lobby where a class of elementary school students was on a field trip. As she passed by the congregation of students, she noticed that one of the girls looked remarkably familiar to Disaster Girl, who had a suspicious smile on her face.

"Must be a coincidence," thought Aubrey as she continued to pursue the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd through the museum. She eventually found them observing the Lincoln family in the museum's entry plaza.

"Don't you think of yourself as being like Abraham Lincoln," remarked the Angry Video Game Nerd. "After all, you and Abraham Lincoln are both tall and have remarkable facial hair.

"No. There's just no comparison," stated the Nostalgia Critic as he chuckled. "Abraham Lincoln was a good, kind man, and I'm a dirty, rotten bastard."

"Anyway, who are we looking for again?" said the Angry Video Game Nerd.

"We are looking for a notorious arsonist by the name of Disaster Girl," answered the Nostalgia Critic on his electronic tablet. "She has been connected to the Universal Studios Hollywood Backlot fire of 2008 and the attempted burning of both Mount Vernon and Monticello. If there is anyone competing for the title of the Modern Herostratus, it's her."

Realizing that she had indeed caught a glimpse of Disaster Girl, Aubrey hurried back to the class of students where Disaster Girl had been. To her horror, Disaster Girl was nowhere to be found.

"Excuse me. Where did one of your students go?" said Aubrey to the teacher supervising the class.

"Oh she decided to pay tribute to Abraham Lincoln by visiting the Treasures Gallery. Why do you ask?" answered the teacher.

Without much time to waste, Aubrey ran towards the Treasures Gallery to stop Disaster Girl from burning down Abraham Lincoln's legacy. She found herself in a room that displayed the Lincoln family's personal belongings, and in the midst of the exhibits, she saw Disaster Girl pouring kerosene onto the floor, evidently about to put the room on fire.

"Stop right there, little girl!" shouted Aubrey as she pointed her finger at Disaster Girl.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here. An American who cares about Abraham Lincoln's legacy. Well looks like he will undergo a second assassination by the time I'm done," said Disaster Girl as she held a lit match.

"Freeze!" shouted the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd as they entered the Treasures Gallery, holding their guns towards Disaster Girl.

"Looks like you had some friends with you," said Disaster Girl with a sinister smile. "I guess we're at a stalemate right now. If any of you tries to shoot me, then I will drop this match and destroy everything in this room. It's on you if you bring about the destruction of Abraham Lincoln's legacy."

Just then, Aubrey realized the flaw in Disaster Girl's plan. The match in her hand could only burn for so long. Thus, if everyone played the waiting game, then the fire on the match would go out and be useless in setting fire to the room.

"Excuse me, Nostalgia Critic," said Aubrey to him.

"Not now, little girl," said the Nostalgia Critic as he continued to point his gun at Disaster Girl.

"I have an idea!" shouted Aubrey to the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd.

"Get out of this!" yelled the Angry Video Game Nerd as he aimed at Disaster Girl's head.

"It's really important!" shouted Aubrey again.

"I'm going to count to three," said the Nostalgia Critic to Disaster Girl. "If you don't put out that match, then I will shoot you.

"Just listen to me, Critic!" yelled Aubrey.

"One," counted the Nostalgia Critic.

"Think for one minute!" shouted Aubrey with much frustration.

"Two," counted the Nostalgia Critic again.

"For goodness sake, just stop!" insisted Aubrey.

"Three," said the Nostalgia Critic as he fired a shot at Disaster Girl. It missed.

"You missed," said Disaster Girl with glee as she dropped the match onto the kerosene-soaked floor.

The room was soon engulfed in flames as Disaster Girl disappeared without a trace.

"We failed in our mission!" shouted the Nostalgia Critic as he and the Nerd rushed out of the room. He then stared back at Aubrey and yelled, "And it's all your fault for following us the second time!"

Aubrey never felt so angry in all of her life, and as the smokes of the fire began to consume the room, Aubrey, in a moment of desperation, tried to save some of the artifacts displayed in the Treasures Gallery. She tried to break the glass cases to the artifacts, but unfortunately, they were unbreakable. With no way of retrieving the artifacts, Aubrey tried to escape from the room, but overwhelmed by the amount of smoke filling her lungs, Aubrey fell unconscious onto the floor.

"We are here at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum where a fire has just broken out," announced rising news reporter Brian Collins. He was staring at the burning inferno happening behind him as children and adults were rushing out of the building. "It looks like everyone has evacuated from the building."

Sitting guiltily in the DeLorean, the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd were contemplating their decision to leave behind Aubrey in the burning room.

"Do you think she could have escaped in time?" asked the Angry Video Game Nerd.

"I don't know," answered the Nostalgia Critic. "I just know that it's our fault if she dies. The Chief would kill us if she knew the details of our failed mission."

Just then, a group of firefighters were lifting up a young woman's body out of the Presidential Library, and they were placing an oxygen mask over her face.

"My goodness!" said Brian Collins as he rushed towards the firefighters administrating oxygen to Aubrey. He was holding his microphone to a firefighter. "What happened here!?"

"This young woman was found lying unconscious in the museum. She's lucky to be alive right now," answered the firefighter.

Looking at Aubrey's unmoving body, the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd looked ahead in shame as they drove the DeLorean back to Chicago.

"Where am I?" said Aubrey as she opened her eyes to a bright, white room.

Aubrey found herself in the hospital, where she had been unconscious for the past few days. The details of the fire at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum were flooding back as she watched a news clip of the incident.

"We don't know the details of what exactly happened that caused the fire at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum," said reporter Brain Collins to the camera. "But thankfully, everyone has make it out of here okay. Reporting for INN, this is Brian Collins saying Boom Goes the Dynamite for no particular reason."

The phone next to Aubrey's bed began to ring, which Aubrey promptly picked up.

"Hello," answered Aubrey. "Who is this?"

Aubrey would later regret this question.

"Why didn't you show up to work for the past few days!?" shouted Norman Albert, who was holding his megaphone to the telephone.

"I'm sorry if I just spent some time in the hospital after inhaling smoke from a fire started by a psychotic girl at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum," said Aubrey with a sassy voice. She wanted to get back at Norman Albert ever since she was employed at the Norman Greeting Card Company.

"For talking back at me and for the sake of balancing the company's budget, I formally fire you Aubrey Aiese from the Norman Greeting Card Company. Don't ever come back to the company again," said Norman through his megaphone.

Aubrey hanged up the phone and started to lie back down on her hospital bed. As the hours and days passed, Aubrey kept wishing to herself that she would be transported back in time to her simpler life with her family back in New York City.

"Your conduct at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum was completely unacceptable!" raged the Chief. "Why didn't you let this Aubrey girl help you on your mission?"

The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd were present in the Chief's office at the top of the Willis Tower, formerly known as the Sears Tower. The office was filled with antiques and artifacts from around the world. They ranged from African masks, Chinese paper lanterns, British tea cups, an aboriginal didgeridoo, a Peruvian panpipe, flags of the world, etc. The Chief, an African American woman dressed in colorful attire, was furious at both the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd for their botched mission to capture Disaster Girl.

"But she was distracting us from shooting Disaster Girl," retorted the Angry Video Game Nerd.

"Yeah. And she shouldn't have followed us for the second time after she knew what dangers were involved with Internet Police work," added the Nostalgia Critic.

"From what I could gather from the microphones I had secretly installed on your bodies, it looked like Aubrey had figured out that you just had to wait until the flame to the match went out, and with the match being burned completely without touching the floor, you would've had the opportunity to fire at Disaster Girl without repercussions," said the Chief in a matter of fact tone.

"Why didn't we think of that? We're such fucking idiots," said an exasperated Angry Video Game Nerd as he face palmed.

"Of course, Aubrey is just a civilian who wants to get herself into trouble for no apparent reason," stated the Nostalgia Critic.

"It appears that you two have forgotten the motto of the Internet Police, which is to protect the world from the scum of the web for the overall betterment of the human race. If we can't even trust the people we are entrusted to defend, then what's the point of the Internet Police in a society where we're not even a part of?" explained the Chief in retaliation to the Critic's statement. "It's exactly what our enemies want. They desire the complete schism between the public and the Internet Police, and by using the classic divide and conquer tactic, the scum of the web will finally reduce the internet into a barren wasteland of trolls and mindless entertainment. Both of your contempt of Aubrey is definitively a slippery slope towards the disintegration of the entire internet."

Having been delivered a clear and straightforward sermon from the Chief, both the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd stared blankly into the Chief's eyes as they dwelled on their ill treatment of Aubrey at the Presidential Library.

"Now I have the option of firing the both of you, but under these circumstances, I have something else in mind," said the Chief.

The opening of Chicago's Millennium Park was considered by many Chicagoans as a crowning moment of awesome, with the construction of the park heralding the arrival of the third millennium for one of America's greatest metropolitan areas. The once industrial wasteland now contained such landmarks like the Jay Pritzker Pavilion, the Crown Fountain, and the Chase Promenade. But the most unusual of these architectural wonders was the Cloud Gate, located near the McCormick Tribute Plaza. Resembling liquid mercury, Cloud Gate, affectionately nicknamed the Bean, was artist Anish Kapoor's masterpiece. And Aubrey was walking underneath the Cloud Gate as a witness to the Chicago skyline being reflected off the Cloud Gate at night.

"I wonder what Anish Kapoor intended the Cloud Gate to represent," whispered Aubrey to herself as she touched the structure with her bare hands. She was an aspiring artist who valued art in everyday objects, and the Cloud Gate was no exception. "It either represents the transubstantiation of one's self as one walks under its opening or a reflection of the spectator's world around him or her."

But before she could elaborate her thoughts on what the Cloud Gate represented, a figure came out of the darkness and towards her. Aubrey saw that it was the Angry Video Game Nerd. Unlike the first two instances, Aubrey had no intention of sticking around to witness what he would do. She decided to hide herself behind the Cloud Gate, hoping that he wouldn't have noticed her.

"Aubrey Aiese," said the Nerd. "I know you're behind there. I just want to talk to you."

However, Aubrey was unwilling to face the Nerd after what he and the Critic did to her back at the Presidential Museum, and so like a child playing a game of tag on the playground, she ran around the Cloud Gate in avoiding contact with the Nerd.

"Let's stop playing these childish games," insisted the Nerd as he ran to catch up with Aubrey, who was trying her best to not be anywhere near him. "I'll just say that it's all my fucking fault that you lost your job and almost lost your life."

Without warning, Aubrey stopped in her tracks to engage the Nerd in a conversation.

"You don't say," said Aubrey to the Nerd, of which he was looking guilty at the moment.

"I'm sorry not allowing you to give your advice to us in confronting Disaster Girl," stated the Nerd.

"You really think that a simple apology would erase everything you did to me on that day. Do you not realize the personal traumas I went through by being hospitalized and now unemployed. And what's more, the Nostalgia Critic didn't even have the proper decency of showing up here to at least try to apologize to me," said Aubrey with a derisive laugh.

"You're right, Aubrey," said the Nerd. "I can't get rid of all of the shit I did in the past. And believe me, there's tons of shit I'm not so proud of. But what I can tell you is this. We are all human, and we make mistakes. Life doesn't fuck around when we make mistakes. We can't just wallow in our own self-pity for the rest of our life. We must accept change immediately and reform ourselves. And from this day forward, I will always attempt to listen to other people's advice no matter how bizarre or outlandish they seem."

Just as the Nerd finished his statement regarding his flaws, Aubrey looked into her own mind and became more sympathetic towards the Nerd's apology to her.

"I also contributed to both you and the Critic messing up on the mission," admitted Aubrey as she became more open to the Nerd. "I should have just shouted my suggestion of letting the flame on the match run its course. Why wasn't I more assertive in myself when faced with the prospect of Disaster Girl destroying the Lincoln family's property? I'm a very meek person who prefers stability and avoids anything that would destroy the tranquility I so desired."

The few people left in Chicago's Millennium Park were oblivious to a life-changing conversation occurring between a nerd with glasses and a young, impressionable woman as they walked by them.

"I think I wanted to have some excitement in my life when I pursued both you and the Critic on your two missions. From what I saw, Internet Police work is extremely dangerous and life-threatening, and yet, I can't help but feel attracted towards it like a romantic lover in want of a life of adventure and escape. I was only angry at the Internet Police for my hospitalization and the lost of my old job, which I never really liked," said Aubrey with a sigh. "I would like nothing more than to become a member of the Internet Police and dive deeper into the frightening and beautiful world of the internet."

With these words, the Nerd pulled out something from his pen pocket and placed it into Aubrey's hand. Upon closer inspection, she saw an official Internet Police white I.D. with her picture on it, with the words HurricaneAubrey (her YouTube account name) emblazoned in blue letters. Beneath her Internet Police I.D. was a letter enclosed within a black envelope.

"Congratulations, HurricaneAubrey. You are now a member of the Internet Police, and I expect you to read that letter by tomorrow because your entire future and that of the internet is based on it," said the Nerd with a smile as he left Aubrey without another word.

As Aubrey saw the Nerd disappear into the darkness, she walked underneath the Cloud Gate once more, and emerging on the other side, she was breathing heavily as she felt like she had undergone a baptism of both body and mind.

"At the Cloud Gate, I have underwent a transfiguration into a new life, and in my reflection, I see what was once a timid girl just a few minutes ago become a confident woman who is ready to take on whatever wonders or horrors the internet has in store for me," remarked Aubrey, who was now going to be identified as HurricaneAubrey from now on.

HurricaneAubrey took one last glance at the Cloud Gate and understood its meaning: reality was more complex both physically and spiritually, and its inviting us to comprehend it by any means possible. HurricaneAubrey then walked out of the park as she kept sight of the lights being illuminated from Chicago's skyscrapers, in which they were witnesses to the newest member of an organization devoted to protecting the internet from the scum of the web.

**Please review this story to provide me some advice on improving it. What other internet personalities or memes should the Internet Police encounter? **


	2. Orientation, Part 2

**I do not own any of the internet personalities or memes presented in this story.**

The Internet Police: The Will of the Internet

Orientation, Part 2

"I can't believe I'm going to the Internet Police Complex," thought HurricaneAubrey as she was walking towards the Willis Tower. She was wearing a blue business suit in preparation for her formal orientation and initiation as an Internet Police agent. Upon reaching the base of the Willis Tower, HurricaneAubrey stared up to the top of the skyscraper, which was one of the tallest buildings in the entire world. It was at this time that HurricaneAubrey decided to read the letter enclosed within the black envelope given to her by the Nerd the night before. She opened the black envelope, revealing a folded golden sheet of paper within it.

Greetings Ms. Aubrey Aiese,

I believe that you have all of the potential qualities of being an effective and skilled Internet Police agent. Further information regarding one of the world's most widespread and secretive organizations will be addressed in the Orientation Room. For now, follow these instructions on getting into the Internet Police Complex:

Go to the middle elevator in the lobby of the Willis Tower.

Wait until everyone else leaves.

Open up the elevator's control panel.

You will see a slot within the control panel. Insert your Internet Police I.D. card into it.

You will find yourself in the Hub of the Internet Police Complex.

With all due respect, The Chief.

Knowing what to do now, HurricaneAubrey made her way through the lobby to the middle elevator. The elevator was crowded with ordinary office workers grumbling about their lousy jobs.

"Hey Aubrey! I didn't know that you were working here at the Willis Tower," said a familiar voice.

HurricaneAubrey looked behind her shoulder and saw Bob Smith standing there with a suitcase.

"I take it that you were fired from the Norman Greeting Card Company too," asked HurricaneAubrey.

"Yep. Norman Albert was on a firing streak when I was sacked for trying to create greeting cards that sang Happy Birthday," said Bob.

The elevator door rang as everyone left it for their boring jobs in the office cubicles.

"Here's my floor, Aubrey. Time to get to work at my new, tedious job," said a yawning Bob as he left the elevator.

Now alone, HurricaneAubrey opened up the elevator's control panel, and she inserted her Internet Police I.D. card into a slot. All of a sudden, red and blue lights filled the elevator, scanning every inch of it.

"State your name," announced a cool female voice.

"Uh. HurricaneAubrey," said HurricaneAubrey with some nervousness.

"Access confirmed," replied the cool female voice, "Welcome to the Internet Police Complex, HurricaneAubrey. You will head towards the Orientation Room at once for your orientation and initiation as an Internet Police agent. Have a nice day."

The elevator travelled straight down further than HurricaneAubrey expected. And before she knew it, HurricaneAubrey soon found herself in a white room with massive television screens that were situated throughout it.

"This is Brian Collins reporting for INN," stated Brian Collins on one of the large television screens. Joining me today at the U.S. Capitol is a congressional rising star. His name is Lame R. Prick. Nice to meet you, Mr. Prick."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Collins," replied Congress member Prick, a Republican Representative from Texas. "Let me just tell you that I want more Alvin and the Chipmunk movies. There must be more squeakquels."

"Are you sure about this, Mr. Prick? I mean, maybe the American public desires something of more substance and class," interjected Brian Collins.

"Preposterous," said Mr. Prick with a sense of superiority. "Chipmunks eating poo is of greater substance than finding out the meaning of life. After all, poo is more interesting than learning about where we came from and what our purpose in this life is."

"I think that will be enough, Mr. Prick," interrupted Brian Collins with an awkward smile on his face as he turned back towards the camera. "Coming up next, the Institute of Internet Studies is debating whether or not Milhouse is not a meme is a meme."

"This must the Hub," said HurricaneAubrey in awe as she saw Internet Police agents crawling through it like ants.

From her first impressions, the Hub was the epitome of function over form as the architectural was minimalist through its various blue couches being scattered throughout it. In addition, there were flags of all the countries of the world around the Hub's perimeter, and in the very center of the Hub, a glass map of the world was embedded within the otherwise marble flooring, perhaps indicating that the Internet Police was an multinational security force. Making her way through the Internet Police agents rushing past her, HurricaneAubrey found an empty glass elevator available for her, pushing the button Orientation Room. The glass elevator went straight up, passing through the Willis Tower itself as HurricaneAubrey heard conversations of office workers going about their daily routines of faxing papers and typing endlessly. At last, HurricaneAubrey found herself in a completely dark room where the only lighting came from the floor, which led to what appeared to be another glass elevator. With some reluctance, HurricaneAubrey entered into the other glass elevator.

"I guess I have to wait until the speaker arrives here to start the Orientation program," said HurricaneAubrey to herself.

Nothing happened for the next few minutes as HurricaneAubrey started to become impatient. Out of nowhere, the room was flooded with lights, revealing that the Orientation Room had monitors on its entire surface area (even the floor). A male voice then spoke to her.

"Hello new Internet Police agents. I am a male computerized voice, a counterpart to the female you heard in the elevator you just arrived in," said an automated male announcer. "You will hear a buzzer. When you hear a buzzer, look up at the ceiling."

A buzzer rang out, and feeling compelled to follow directions, HurricaneAubrey looked up at the ceiling.

"Good," said the male computerized voice. "You will hear a buzzer. When you hear the buzzer, look down at the floor."

HurricaneAubrey heard another buzzer, and just as before, she followed the male announcer's advice and looked down at the floor.

"Good," repeated the male announcer as the monitors in front of HurricaneAubrey displayed a large image of a painting she recognized as John Constable's The Hay Wain. "This is art. You will hear a buzzer. When you hear the buzzer, stare at the art."

After hearing the buzzer again, HurricaneAubrey stared at The Hay Wain with intense passion as a lover of art.

"The Hay Wain is a portrayal of the English countryside just before its devastation by the Industrial Revolution," said HurricaneAubrey. "Perhaps it's analogous to how the world was peaceful and quiet before the arrival of the internet and the Information Age."

"You should now feel mentally reinvigorated. If you suspect staring at art has not provided the required intellectual sustenance, reflect briefly on this classical music," announced the male computerized voice.

Pachelbel's Canon in D was playing in the background as HurricaneAubrey listened with a smile on her face. The monitors on the three other sides of the Orientation Room were displaying videos of Canon in D being played. One side had Canon in D being played by the Orchestra da Camera di Verona with violins on the Classic Arts Showcase program. Another side displayed Canon in D being performed in an unorthodox manner by ThePianoGuys. And finally, there was Canon in D being played on the electric guitar in an early YouTube video simply entitled "guitar". Through listening to all of these variations of Canon in D, HurricaneAubrey could relieve her mind of all the troubles and turmoil that had plagued her for the past few months.

"Finally! I can think straight for the first time in a long time!" exclaimed HurricaneAubrey as she held her arms up and spun around in a circle inside the glass elevator. "O brave new world, that has such people in't! I feel like the internet is such a wondrous place. I feel like the World Wide Web has such beauty within it. I feel that… ahhhhh!"

HurricaneAubrey placed her hands onto her ears as the buzzer ranged again, ceasing the symphonies of Canon in D that had been playing.

"Good. The lights will be turned off again," said the male announcer.

To HurricaneAubrey's annoyance, the lights to the Orientation Room were extinguished again, leaving her once again in almost complete total darkness. Seconds passed. Minutes passed. After what seemed like an eternity, HurricaneAubrey had the uneasy feeling that her induction into the Internet Police had been an enormous mistake and that a sick joke was being played on her. But before she further contemplate these uncomfortable thoughts, a voice entirely different from the previous one spoke out from the darkness.

"Hello? Anyone in there?" said an English-accented man. "Will someone turn on the lights to the Orientation Room?"

The lights came flooding back into the Orientation Room, and to HurricaneAubrey's surprise, the monitors in front of her displayed not a British man but a talking mechanical sphere.

"Let there be light. That's, uh… God. I was quoting God," announced the mechanical sphere.

The strange mechanical sphere and HurricaneAubrey made eye contact with each other, with the sphere staring at HurricaneAubrey with his solitary blue eye.

"Ah! You look terribl—ummm… good. Look good actually," replied the mechanical sphere. "I've got to show more respect to the smelly humans. Oh wait, sorry about that. Old habits die hard for me you see."

HurricaneAubrey couldn't help but be bemused by the ramblings of the mechanical sphere regarding her and the human race. After all, he didn't appear to be very bright and was simply naïve about these topics.

"Who are you?" asked HurricaneAubrey to the mechanical sphere on the monitors in front of her.

"I am Wheatley. I am an Aperture Science Personality Core. But enough about me, let's talk about you," said the mechanical sphere called Wheatley in a brisk manner. "Say apple."

"What?" said HurricaneAubrey in response to a seemingly random request.

"Go on, say apple. Aaaaple. Just say apple. Easy word, isn't it? Apple," demanded Wheatley.

"Uh apple," answered HurricaneAubrey with bewilderment.

"Close enough," said Wheatley. "Most new recruits to the Internet Police put up a fight against my demand for them to say apple, indicating that they are too stubborn and rebellious to make good agents. But since you answered to my request immediately, you have passed your first test. And now, onto the Orientation tour of the Internet Police Complex."

The glass elevator HurricaneAubrey was in moved downward and out of the Orientation Room. After descending several floors down, she was now in some sort of warehouse with cargo containers stacked in huge towers. And staring directly at her was the real-life Wheatley hanging from some sort of a rail.

"I'll be conducting your orientation tour of the Internet Police Complex from this management rail," said Wheatley as he followed HurricaneAubrey's glass elevator on its descent through the Internet Police Warehouse. "What you must know is that the first rule of the Internet Police is to prepare for the unpredictable."

Suddenly, the glass elevator moved to the right, causing HurricaneAubrey to fall sideways.

"Like I said, prepare for the unpredictable," replied Wheatley as he chuckled slightly.

HurricaneAubrey was just about to get back onto her feet when the glass elevator traveled immediately towards the left, knocking her back down.

"If there is one thing all new Internet Police agents should remember is to prepare for the predictable," repeated Wheatley.

HurricaneAubrey was panting as she brushed through her hair. Without warning, the glass elevator moved forward, accelerating at high speeds towards an impact wall. Before HurricaneAubrey could emit a high pitch scream, the glass elevator stopped just before hitting the wall by mere inches.

"First rule of the Internet Police is to prepare for the unpredictable. You got that HurricaneAubrey?" asked Wheatley as he followed the course of the glass elevator moving diagonally downward to the right.

"I think I got that engrained in my brain pretty well," said HurricaneAubrey as she was clutching at her chest.

"We are here at the docking station, which will give us access to the Terminal of the Internet Police Complex," stated Wheatley proudly.

But HurricaneAubrey could only see a blank wall in front of her.

"Wait. That's not the docking station. My sincerest apologies," said Wheatley as he traveled with the glass elevator to the actual docking station. "Here is the docking station right here. As they say in Alice in Wonderland, follow the white rabbit down the rabbit hole."

Wheatley propelled himself forward through the docking station's opening as the glass elevator followed behind him. To HurricaneAubrey's amazement, the end of the docking station's opening revealed a massive room where the sun was shining artificially from the ceiling's monitors. As HurricaneAubrey's glass elevator continued its journey through the room, there were hundreds of similar glass elevators moving about around her, each of them going forward, backwards, sideways, and in any other ways imaginable.

"Welcome to the Internet Police Complex!" shouted Wheatley excitedly. "This is the Terminal, the main transportation area for Internet Police agents travelling on glass elevators to the various points of the Internet Police Complex. Just take the spectacular scale of the Terminal all in HurricaneAubrey."

HurricaneAubrey saw glass elevators moving quickly past each other without any collisions. She saw that the Terminal's walls were filled with openings where glass elevators either entered or exited the Terminal. Right above the openings in the walls were huge posters portraying the pioneers of the computer and the internet. These posters included the following figures: Charles Babbage, Ada Lovelace, Tim Berners-Lee, Bill Gates, and Steve Jobs.

"I think it's time for you to get acquainted with the Hub of the Internet Police Complex," said Wheatley. "I believe you have already seen it when you arrived here. Is that correct?"

"Yes," answered HurricaneAubrey.

"Good. It's off to the Hub it is," announced Wheatley.

The glass elevator made its way towards the Hub. HurricaneAubrey was already familiar with the appearance of the Hub, but the glass elevator was positioned behind what seemed to be a podium situated directly above the Hub.

"This is the Hub," explained Wheatley. "This is where all Internet Police agents come in from home."

"Are there any other places where Internet Police agents can arrive to work?" asked HurricaneAubrey.

"No. For security reasons, there is only one entrance and exit to the Internet Police Complex for arriving agents," stated Wheatley. "For some employees, they arrive through the elevators from the Willis Tower like you did today. For the other Internet Police agents, they travel through the subway system directly into the Internet Police Complex on specialized red subway cars, and they arrive into the Hub through the flight of marble steps opening into it."

HurricaneAubrey saw several Internet Police agents walking up the marble stairs directly beneath her through the glass flooring.

"And of course, the Chief of the Internet Police sometimes uses the podium right in front of us to give speeches during celebrations or in times of crises," said Wheatley.

The glass elevator moved again, and once again, HurricaneAubrey found herself in the Terminal.

"It's interesting to note that the Internet Police Complex is hidden throughout the innumerable skyscrapers of Chicago, and the only way to access the many rooms of the Complex is by the glass elevators themselves," said Wheatley loudly. "Let's us now proceed to the Enrichment Center."

After moving in various directions that ranged from up to down, left and right, and forwards and backwards, HurricaneAubrey soon was in a room where scientists were conducting experiments with various equipments and machinery.

"This is the Enrichment Center. This is personally my favorite room in the entire Complex. It is here that the Internet Police is perfecting the weapons needed to fight the scum of the web," explained Wheatley.

As the glass elevator HurricaneAubrey was riding on hovered above the Enrichment Center, HurricaneAubrey saw many things that were incomprehensible to her artistic mind. There were chemicals of a plethora of colors bubbling within various laboratory glasswares. There were several machines projecting lasers onto targets, some effective and others duds. There were scientists constructing robots of various shapes and sizes. There was a scientist preparing to shoot a junkyard car with a projectile weapon, with the scientist's appearance looking very familiar to HurricaneAubrey.

"You are witnessing the Angry Video Game Nerd about to test his Super Scope weapon," stated Wheatley. "If the Super Scope is able to be perfected, it could be the Internet Police's most potent weapon against our enemies. You see that helmet-like item on Angry Video Game Nerd's head. It's called the Konami LaserScope. The purpose of the Konami LaserScope is to enable the wearer to shoot the Super Scope with extraordinary accuracy."

As the Angry Video Game Nerd was preparing to shoot his Super Scope weapon, HurricaneAubrey saw a congregation of robots in the testing area. They had binocular-like eyes, two mechanical arms attached to an upper body, and a lower locomotive base attached to the upper body through a cylindrical middle body.

"The robots you are looking at are R.O.B.s, also known as Robotic Operating Buddies. The R.O.B.s used in the Enrichment Center for various functions, ranging from dealing with hazardous material to handling weapons unable to be operated by humans," stated Wheatley. "I must say that the Nerd will be successful in testing his Super Scope weapon this time around."

The Angry Video Game Nerd fired the Super Scope weapon towards the junkyard car, shooting out a sonic pulse towards it. The car was hit by the sonic pulse, but unfortunately, the sonic pulse reverberated back towards the Nerd and the R.O.B. robots behind him, pushing them backwards several feet. The glass elevator vibrated heavily as HurricaneAubrey held onto for dear life.

"Fuck!" shouted the Nerd. "I rather have a buffalo take a diarrhea dump in my ear. I rather eat the rotten asshole of a roadkill skunk and down it with beer than continue this experiment."

HurricaneAubrey saw the Nerd continue to swear and rant excessively over his failed test.

"Well. In the words of Thomas Edison, genius is one percent inspiration, ninety nine percent perspiration," said Wheatley. "I'm sure the Angry Video Game Nerd will get over this minor setback."

Just then, the Angry Video Game Nerd punched his fist into the Enrichment Center's wall and flung his Konami LaserScope into one of the bubbling chemicals. It caused a minor explosion in the Enrichment Center.

"Or not," said Wheatley as he saw a small mushroom cloud hovering above the scientists. "On with the tour then."

The glass elevator exited the Enrichment Center and was heading to another destination. Where they were going HurricaneAubrey didn't know.

"How many rooms are in the Internet Police Complex?" said HurricaneAubrey to Wheatley.

"I've lost count I must admit," answered Wheatley. "I would estimate that there are about a hundred rooms within the Internet Police Complex, each with their own unique features and personalities tailored to meet the needs of every Internet Police agent. I'll show you one room that every Internet Police agent needs to become a top defender of the World Wide Web."

And with those words, the glass elevator moved into a room that looked like an ancient Greek temple. According to HurricaneAubrey's observations, the Internet Police agents down below her were firing their guns at several cardboard targets.

"We are now in the Gymnasium of the Internet Police Complex. This is where all Internet Police agents go to exercise their mind and body," said Wheatley. "Oh look! The Internet Police agents are clearly having fun shooting at their favorite target."

Upon closer inspection, HurricaneAubrey saw that the majority of the cardboard targets were that of infamous YouTuber Fred Figglehorn.

"For many years, Fred Figglehorn wrecked havoc on the internet by his incessant whining and crazy antics. The Internet Police has spent many years trying to track down Fred, only to have him escape with assistance from his young supporters known as the Figgles. You can see that every member of the Internet Police has a personal vendetta against Fred and have placed their anger towards him through target practices," explained Wheatley.

"I can see that opinion thoroughly," said HurricaneAubrey as one Internet Police agent completely blasted the cardboard Fred's head off its body. She also never liked Fred due to being an annoying and immature boy on the internet.

The glass elevator made its way through the Gymnasium where Internet Police agents were also exercising by other means, such as fencing and discus throwing. HurricaneAubrey saw one of the discuses flying past the glass elevator when Wheatley began to speak again.

"We will now venture into the darkest part of the Internet Police Complex," stated Wheatley.

The glass elevator made its way back to the Terminal, where it soon traveled straight down into a dark opening. Against all expectations, the glass elevator continued moving in no other direction except down, just like any other normal elevator. HurricaneAubrey was immersed in total darkness once more.

"Let me turn on my flashlight to provide us some lighting," said Wheatley out from the darkness.

A flashlight was lit from Wheatley's mechanical body, stunning both HurricaneAubrey and Wheatley himself.

"GAAAA! I've got to stop believing that I would die if I turned on this flashlight," proclaimed Wheatley.

Now providing the light to HurricaneAubrey's glass elevator, Wheatley began telling her about the room coming up as the glass elevator continues to descend downward.

"We are now approaching the Asylum, where we keep all of the scum of the web captured by the Internet Police in solitary confinement until they can be properly reformed," remarked Wheatley. "The Asylum was first built in the 1950s as a nuclear bunker to protect the Chicago elite during the Cold War. I assume you know what the Cold War was about, HurricaneAubrey."

"I indeed know about the Cold War. It was a conflict between the United States and the Soviet Union that spanned over half a century involving the threat of nuclear annihilation," said HurricaneAubrey. "It was really a fight between capitalism and communism as well as democracy and authoritarianism."

"Exactly," replied Wheatley. "Funny how often humans are irrational enough to risk total extinction based solely on ideologies. Anyway, the end of the Cold War left the nuclear bunker dormant for some time before the Internet Police came by and converted it into the Asylum for captured Internet criminals. Ah. Here we are now."

Upon reaching the Asylum (perhaps located several miles below Lake Michigan), the glass elevator moved forward, with HurricaneAubrey having a ground-view of the occupants of the Asylum. The residents of the Asylum were held within glass containers that separated them from the Internet Police scientists attempting to diagnose them. Some, like the Dramatic Chipmunk, were content and civilized towards HurricaneAubrey as she stared at them. Others displayed Joker-levels of madness and insanity as they glanced at HurricaneAubrey with a savage longing and opened their mouths in emitting a primal scream.

"I hate being down here," admitted Wheatley. "They represent the worst of the internet, and curiously enough, they are all biological life forms and none are of artificial intelligence. Is it because artificial life is more caring and compassionate than carbon-based life?"

HurricaneAubrey was used to stories of robots taking over the world and enslaving the human race, but as she gazed upon the prisoners of the Asylum and looked at Wheatley's humility and kindness, she couldn't help but see merit in Wheatley's statement. Her thoughts about the worthiness of biological life were cut short by a familiar voice yelling in frustration.

"For the last time, you are American, not Japanese," said the Nostalgia Critic to a girl who was whiter than sour cream. The Nostalgia Critic and the white girl were sitting on steel chairs, with the white girl handcuffed to a steel table situated between her and the Nostalgia Critic.

"I'm not Japanese," insisted the obviously white girl, "I'm a Japanese vampire princess."

"Oh for fuck sake, MagicalPockyUsagi!" stated the Nostalgia Critic, "You are an American. You're just being a Weeaboo."

"I'm not a Weeaboo like those other posers. I'm a true Japanese individual," said MagicalPockyUsagi.

"If you're Japanese, then I'm the King of England," countered the Nostalgia Critic, who was now rubbing his fingers on his head in deep frustration.

MagicalPockyUsagi turned around to look at HurricaneAubrey and Wheatley, where she gave them V-signs through the use of two fingers on both of her hands.

"Like I said, we have some of the worst parts of the internet stored here," said Wheatley as he tried to ignore MagicalPockyUsagi's eyes.

"Come on, Wheatley. You can tell that I'm Japanese," said MagicalPockyUsagi.

"I can assure you madam that you are certainly not Japanese," answered Wheatley.

"Don't be such a moron, Wheatley," insisted MagicalPockyUsagi with fabricated innocence in her voice.

HurricaneAubrey knew that MagicalPockyUsagi had said something really insulting for Wheatley went completely berserk.

"I AM NOT A MORON!" shouted Wheatley.

"Oh yes you are! You're a moron from the most moronic island in the world," continued MagicalPockyUsagi as Wheatley tried not to shout insults at her. "You are a moron. You are a moron. You are a."

Thankfully, the glass container that held MagicalPockyUsagi was made soundproof by the Nostalgia Critic through a push of a button.

"Can I speak to you in private, Wheatley?" asked the Nostalgia Critic.

"Sure thing, Mr. Critic," answered Wheatley.

HurricaneAubrey saw Wheatley travel on his management rail to talk with the Nostalgia Critic. From her point of view, the Nostalgia Critic occasionally glanced at her with a grimace before returning to his conversation with Wheatley. From just the Nostalgia Critic's facial expressions and body language, she could tell that the Nostalgia Critic was talking about her and not in a positive manner.

"That was somewhat enlightening, Mr. Critic," said Wheatley as he joined HurricaneAubrey at the glass elevator. "I think it's time that we leave this abysmal place, HurricaneAubrey."

The glass elevator moved once more as it began to leave the Asylum, with HurricaneAubrey catching one last glance at the Nostalgia Critic. He was looking at her with distrust. After ascending several miles, the glass elevator emerged into the bright Terminal, and trying to keep her mind away from the creepiness of the Asylum and the Nostalgia Critic's negative attitude towards her, HurricaneAubrey decided to ask Wheatley a question.

"How does the Internet Police transport the captured criminals to the Asylum?" asked HurricaneAubrey.

"The Internet Police's prisoners are placed onto armored subway cars that are directly connected to the Asylum," answered Wheatley. "We take special precautions in ensuring that none of our captured individuals escape."

HurricaneAubrey was trying to suppress her uneasiness over the Asylum regarding its overall purpose.

"I must remind you that the Asylum is meant as a temporary residence for internet hooligans and trolls until they can be reformed to once again function normally in society," added Wheatley.

Seeing the still somewhat worried look on HurricaneAubrey's face, Wheatley thought of a room that would seem most rejuvenating for her.

"How about we go someplace more relaxing," suggested Wheatley.

"Agreed," said HurricaneAubrey.

And just like that, Wheatley brought HurricaneAubrey to a room that contained a wide meadow filled with olive trees and Mediterranean cypress trees.

"These are the Elysian Fields," stated Wheatley with pride in his voice. "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful," answered HurricaneAubrey as she stammered to find other appropriate words to describe the Elysian Fields. "It's just like Italian region of Tuscany."

"I knew that you would like it considering that you are of Italian-descent," said Wheatley as he followed the glass elevator's descent onto the grassy fields.

The glass elevator's doors opened, and with Wheatley's blessing, HurricaneAubrey exited it and ventured through the idyllic landscape. The illusion of being in Tuscany was achieved further by the artificial sky above her, which projected an orange and purple sky in representing a sunset. She eventually reached a stone farmhouse with a vineyard behind it. There were Internet Police agents inside of it drinking various types of wines. HurricaneAubrey took her seat at one of the tables

"What can I get for you, young lady?" said a tough, manly voice out of nowhere.

HurricaneAubrey tried to trace the source of the voice, which came from a mechanical sphere that looked just like Wheatley except that it had a green eye instead of Wheatley's blue eye.

"I would like a bottle of Sangiovese wine please," said HurricaneAubrey.

"Certainly," replied the green-eyed mechanical sphere. He then spoke in a more masculine and romantic tone "And I must say you're looking mighty fine young lady. How about you take a little lady break and have a drink with me?"

"Rick! Just get her some wine to drink. I'm the one conducting the Orientation tour," exclaimed Wheatley as he confronted the green-eyed mechanical sphere named Rick.

"Just trying to impress a beautiful woman Wheatley," said Rick as he proceeded to obtain Sangiovese wine by means of mechanical arms embedded in the walls. The Sangiovese wine bottle was carried by the mechanical arms and was poured into the glass cup directly in front of HurricaneAubrey.

"Thank you very much Rick," said Wheatley with annoyance. "You may go now."

"I take it you think I'm too manly and dangerous for this attractive woman right here Wheatley," said Rick as he moved away from HurricaneAubrey and Wheatley. "At least I'm not a moron who became a power-hungry dictator."

"I AM NOT A MORON!" yelled Wheatley as he attracted the unwanted attention of all the Internet Police agents in the building. Wheatley coughed nervously upon seeing them. "Sorry about that."

"What does he mean when you became a power-hungry dictator?" inquired HurricaneAubrey.

"Never mind about that," answered Wheatley. "Rick was just exaggerating things. Anyway, is there something else on your mind?"

As HurricaneAubrey was drinking her Sangiovese wine, she thought about how the Nostalgia Critic seemed to have a personal dislike of her.

"Why does the Nostalgia Critic hate me?" said HurricaneAubrey.

"What makes you say that?" said Wheatley.

"I remembered your conversation with the Nostalgia Critic down in the Asylum, and from his nonverbal gestures, he seemed to discussing his mistrust of me to you," projected HurricaneAubrey.

"Alright. I think it would best to be honest with you. The Nostalgia Critic did say that he doesn't trust the young people like you," admitted Wheatley. "You see, the Nostalgia Critic was a child of the 80s and grew up in the 90s. He experienced a different life than you have. You were a product of the 90s and grew up at the Turn of the Millennium. For his Garbage Pail Kids, you have your Seltzer and Friedberg movies. For his Star Trek movies, you have your Inceptions. For his Back to the Future movies, you have your modern romantic comedies."

"But I love the Back to the Future movies," retorted HurricaneAubrey. "I'm practically a child of the 80s as well as the 90s by my love of such movies like Home Alone, The Lion King, Beauty and the Beast, Beetlejuice, UHF, and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (which plays tributes to 80s and 90s video games and popular culture). I'm really the same person as the Nostalgia Critic based on our tastes in movies.

"But no matter your personal preferences and interests, you will always be seen by the Nostalgia Critic as a member of your generation based on your physical appearance," stated Wheatley. "I'm sorry HurricaneAubrey but that's what the Nostalgia Critic thinks of you. He will inevitably place you in the same category as the vapid, teenage girls commonly found in your generation according to his own opinion."

HurricaneAubrey looked crestfallen as Wheatley uttered these words. Seeing her sad expression, Wheatley began to speak again.

"Don't worry, HurricaneAubrey. I'm sure the Nostalgia Critic will turn his initial doubts and fears about you in due time when he gets to know you better," assured Wheatley.

HurricaneAubrey gave a smile as she took another drink of Sangiovese wine.

"This is a beautiful place, isn't it," said HurricaneAubrey as she gazed around in awe of how much beauty the Elysian Fields contained, ranging from the stone farmhouse with its collection of Italian wine to the recreation of the Tuscan countryside.

"It indeed is, HurricaneAubrey," replied Wheatley in agreement.

After spending some time in the Elysian Fields, Wheatley signaled HurricaneAubrey to return to the glass elevator, and with some reluctance, HurricaneAubrey made her way back to the glass elevator. From the tranquil environment of the Elysian Fields, the glass elevator took HurricaneAubrey to a room where different kinds of electronics were being manufactured at breakneck speeds. Typical industrial noises were heard as several mechanical spheres similar to Wheatley were supervising the production of the Internet Police's electronic tools.

"This is what the Internet Police calls the Assembly Line," explained Wheatley. "This is where the Internet Police's gadgets are mass produced to be used against the scum of the web."

The glass elevator was in the midst of robotic arms firing out lasers onto the moving conveyor belt, and miraculously, the lasers just barely avoided hitting the glass elevator. As HurricaneAubrey was watching the lasers pass right front of her eyes, a mechanical sphere was travelling next to the glass elevator, in which he was clearly obsessed with something not related to the production of Internet Police gadgets.

"Oh oh oh ohohohoh oh. Gotta go to space. Space. Space. Space. Space. Comets. Stars. Galaxies. Orion," said the yellow-eyed mechanical sphere as he passed by the glass elevator.

"Greetings, Space Core. I would like to introduce to you a good mate of mine. Her name is HurricaneAubrey, and she is the newest member of the Internet Police," said Wheatley to the yellow-eyed mechanical sphere, of who didn't seem to be paying attention to him.

"Are we in space yet? What's the hold-up? Gotta go to space. Gotta go to SPACE. Going to space," said the Space Core as he continued to revolve around the glass elevator as if it was the sun and he was the earth.

"So Space Core. May I request that you obtain a G.E.D. for HurricaneAubrey here?" asked Wheatley.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm going. Going to space. Love space. Need to go to space," continued the Space Core as he continued his orbit around the glass elevator, ignoring Wheatley's question.

"Can you please snap out of your strange fascination for space and get me a G.E.D. for HurricaneAubrey?" asked Wheatley irritably.

"Oh alright," said the Space Core as he drifted away from the glass elevator.

"A G.E.D.? As in general educational development?" thought HurricaneAubrey. "But I already graduated from college. So why I'm I being given a test for people who didn't graduate high school?"

But the robotic arms being manipulated by the Space Core returned with an electronic device, which looked like the same one used by the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd when they were at the Norman Greeting Card Company searching for the Dramatic Chipmunk. The glass elevator door opened when the electronic tablet was placed into HurricaneAubrey's hands by the robotic arms.

"Thank you, Space Core," said HurricaneAubrey.

"Space space space. Going. Going there. Okay. I love you, space. Space," said the Space Core as he went back to supervising the manufacturing of the other electronic products.

"Now this is a G.E.D., also known as a Global Electronic Database," explained Wheatley. "All Internet Police agents are armed with G.E.D., which contains all the necessary electronic features one would expect from a police agency. You're got your basic tracking devices, videophones, maps, information regarding the scum of the web, and an electronic encyclopedia."

"So basically everything an average iPad or Kindle can do?" said HurricaneAubrey.

"Well… yes and no," said Wheatley with a somewhat embarrassed expression on his face. "I mean, can an iPad or a Kindle shoot out fire?"

Feeling curious, HurricaneAubrey decided to find the button that would allow the G.E.D. to shoot out fire.

"DON'T PUSH THE FIRE BUTTON!" shouted Wheatley.

But HurricaneAubrey already pushed the button, and much to her surprise, the G.E.D. released a short burst of fire. HurricaneAubrey dropped the G.E.D. onto the glass elevator's floor as she was panting heavily.

"Always prepare for the unpredictable," said HurricaneAubrey to Wheatley.

"Right," said Wheatley as he shook his mechanical body.

The glass elevator was moving through what looked like a kitchen where chefs were cooking all sorts of culinary concoctions.

"We are just passing through the kitchen where the meals for the Internet Police agents will be passed to the Great Hall, which we will see in just a few moments," stated Wheatley.

And just like that, the glass elevator stopped by a room that looked like the dining hall at Oxford's Christ Church College.

"Welcome to the Great Hall," said Wheatley. "I suggest you take a thorough look of the place."

HurricaneAubrey turned her head towards all directions and saw that the Great Hall had stained glass windows like a medieval cathedral, and the walls of the Great Hall had paintings illustrating the progress of human communication. Several of these paintings included these following subjects: people creating cave paintings, Egyptians writing on papyrus scrolls, the Romans constructing roads, Gutenberg at his printing press, the invention of the telegraph and the telephone, Americans listening to the radio and watching television, and the birth of the World Wide Web.

"This is where Internet Police agents typically eat their meals when they are busy with work either here or on field assignments," said Wheatley.

The glass elevator made its way back to the Terminal, where a myriad of glass elevators were criss-crossing each other to get to their destination.

"As a special treat to all new Internet Police agents, the Orientation program offers them a chance to choose any room to end their Internet Police Complex tour before returning back to the Orientation Room," said Wheatley.

HurricaneAubrey looked at what seemed to be an infinite number of buttons surrounding her, each containing the name of a room in the Internet Police Complex. They included the following rooms: Engine Room, Restricted Section, Atmospheric Chocolate Room, Universe Room, and the Internet Archive. At last, HurricaneAubrey pushed the button a room that caught her interest: The Art Gallery.

"Ah The Art Gallery," said Wheatley. "Heading there right now."

The Art Gallery within the Internet Police Complex looked like the Louvre. As HurricaneAubrey exited the glass elevator, she felt overwhelmed by the presence of art. For her entire life, she was fascinated by art since going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Museum of Modern Art in New York City during her childhood. In her opinion, she appreciated both traditional and modern art. For example, she saw the painting Washington Crossing the Delaware and was in awe of how the painting depicted Washington and his troops braving the hostile weather in their fight for independence. In HurricaneAubrey's opinion, a painting can come to life if the colors and textures utilized were used properly, with Washington Crossing the Delaware being a painting with the perfect colors and textures. She also remembered the time she first gazed upon Vincent van Gogh's The Starry Night at the Museum of Modern Art, and at a young age, she only paid attention to the diluted colors and the swirls in the picture. Of course, she appreciated the painting even more at an older age by learning about Vincent van Gogh's turmoil throughout his life, with the triumphs and tragedies of the psychologically depressed artist on display in front of her.

"I take it you have a background in art, paintings and sculptures in particular, HurricaneAubrey," asked Wheatley.

"I do indeed, Wheatley," answered HurricaneAubrey. "In fact, my younger sister Allison also has a background in art, only she is more musically inclined."

HurricaneAubrey saw some paintings that she recognized. Some of these included Pietro Antonio Rotari's Young Girl Writing a Love Letter, Jean-Honoré Fragonard's A Young Girl Reading, and Élisabeth Vigée-Lebrun's Self Portrait of herself painting. Élisabeth Vigée-Lebrun was one of HurricaneAubrey's idols for being a successful 18th century woman artist, with HurricaneAubrey hoping to emulate her as a 21st century version of her.

"You may also be interested in this specific painting," said Wheatley as he encircled a sculpture of Auguste Rodin's The Thinker.

Wheatley directed HurricaneAubrey to an enormous painting, which depicted what looked like Internet Police agents (whom were dressed in WWII-style uniforms) charging onto a battlefield. They appeared to be fighting what looked like adolescent children.

"What you see here is the reason why the Nostalgia Critic distrusts you. This painting The Battle of Montana was one of the bloodiest battle in the First War, also known by other names such as the Children Revolution or the Youth War," explained Wheatley. "The First War pitted the Internet Police against children who wanted to overthrow the adults and establish a vapid society with senseless violence and rampant destruction. With these children and teenagers threatening to destroy everything they held most dear towards, many Internet Police agents, such as the Nostalgia Critic, fostered an eternal enmity towards the younger generation that included you HurricaneAubrey."

As HurricaneAubrey saw the brutality of the Battle of Montana through how the adolescents were killing the Internet Police agents (with the painting's shades of red depicting the river of blood coming from the injured or dead Internet Police agents, she fully understood why the Nostalgia Critic and perhaps the other Internet Police agents had a personal dislike of her.

"Art really is an expression of the best and worst humanity has to offer," said HurricaneAubrey to herself.

The glass elevator was making its way back to the Orientation Room when HurricaneAubrey thought back to the two paintings in the Art Gallery that made a lasting impact on her: Élisabeth Vigée-Lebrun's Self Portrait and the Battle of Montana. Élisabeth Vigée-Lebrun's Self Portrait showed what young people like HurricaneAubrey could be capable of when they devoted themselves to creating beauty and goodness in the world. In stark contrast, the Battle of Montana was a statement on what heinous acts young people could perform on their fellow human beings, ruining the reputation of other young individuals in the eyes of their older neighbors. The glass elevator returned back to the Orientation Room, which possessed almost no lighting again.

"I believe that the Chief has a few words to say to you," announced Wheatley.

The monitors in front of HurricaneAubrey turned on, revealing an African-American woman that bore a striking resemblance to Lynne Thigpen.

"Greetings HurricaneAubrey, our newest member of the Internet Police. I'm the Chief, but you can call me…. well the Chief," said the Chief from her office. "Congratulations on completing your Orientation tour of the Internet Police Complex. I will now be supervising your official initiation into the Internet Police."

All of a sudden, all of the other monitors in the Orientation Room turned on and projected what looked like a congregation of Internet Police agents clapping for her in what looked like a gigantic medieval cathedral. Feeling that it was the proper thing to do, HurricaneAubrey kneeled down onto her knees as the glass elevator doors opened. Robotic arms emerged from the Orientation Room's floor and a sword was placed on HurricaneAubrey's right shoulder.

"Repeat after me," said Wheatley as he stared down at HurricaneAubrey. "I, HurricaneAubrey."

"I, HurricaneAubrey," repeated HurricaneAubrey.

"Do solemnly swear to protect the world from the scum of the web," said Wheatley.

"Do solemnly swear to protect the world from the scum of the web," repeated HurricaneAubrey.

"To prepare for the unpredictable," said Wheatley.

"To prepare for the unpredictable," repeated HurricaneAubrey.

"And to defend all that is good in the world," said Wheatley.

"And to defend all that is good in the world," repeated HurricaneAubrey.

"In the powers vested in me and all of the innovators who had lived before you, I now proclaim you to be an official member of the Internet Police!" exclaimed Wheatley.

HurricaneAubrey felt the magnitude of the Initiation Ceremony as she kneeled there as all of the Internet Police agents in the Orientation Room applauded for her.

The John Hancock Center, named after one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, was one of Chicago's tallest skyscrapers. With two distinguished antennas at the top, the John Hancock Center possessed an Observatory that is considered by many Chicagoans to be one of the best in the city. As the sun was setting upon the Chicago skyline, HurricaneAubrey was purchasing a Chicago-style hot dog inside the Observatory.

"Is there any ketchup available?" pondered HurricaneAubrey as she held the Chicago-style hot dog in her hand.

"Of course not, young lady," replied the man behind the counter. "Chicagoans consider ketchup to be a stain on our perfect hot dogs, and indeed, we don't even put mustard on our hot dogs for it would be detrimental to the overall taste of the meat on the bun. You must be a New Yorker. I can assure you that we do things differently here in Chicago. Any questions?"

"Uh no," said HurricaneAubrey. "I just need to get used to things being different here in Chicago."

Eating her hot dog without the aid of ketchup or mustard, HurricaneAubrey walked towards the windows overlooking both the Chicago skyline as well as Lake Michigan. The setting sun looked glorious from the Observatory. HurricaneAubrey ate her hot dog as she glanced across both Lake Michigan and the Chicago skyline.

"I wonder if it was by fate that I'm now a part of the Internet Police," thought HurricaneAubrey as she leaned against one of the Observatory's windows.

HurricaneAubrey had become a full-time member of the Internet Police whether by random chance or by fate. Whatever the reason, she was now going into a world filled with more wonders and horrors than she could ever imagine. In the next few months, she will encounter old and new friends as well as enemies. She would uncover plots from the mundane to those that threatened the entire planet. Indeed, she would risk everything she held most dear towards by her involvement with the Internet Police. But for now, HurricaneAubrey looked upon the Chicago landscape, not knowing what the future held for her.

**Please review this story to provide me some advice on improving it. What other internet personalities or memes should the Internet Police encounter?**


	3. Operation Knox, Part 1

**I do not own any of the internet personalities or memes presented in this story. **

The Internet Police: The Will of the Internet

Operation Knox, Part 1

Marty McFly was running through Hill Valley. He needed to get back to 1985 before it was too late. Doc Brown was counting on him from the future. With so much on the line, he felt that he wasn't running fast enough. He could use a skateboard right about now. Suddenly, a skateboard appeared out of nowhere, and feeling relieved, he jumped onto the skateboard and propelled himself forward towards his intended destination: Lou's Café. Why he needed to go there he did not know. As he rode on his skateboard, he saw several clocks on the ground and had a strange urge to collect them.

"What does this have to do with saving Doc Brown?" exclaimed Marty.

Marty continued to collect clocks for no apparent reason as he skated to Lou's Café. Out of a clear sky, gigantic bees came buzzing towards him.

"Holy shit!" screamed Marty as he dodged the gigantic killer bees flying around him. "What is this: Hill Valley or Hell?"

His skateboard disappeared below him, and as Marty ran with his perpetually moving feet, he found himself amidst an army of hula hoop girls trying to kill him.

"Why do they want to kill me? Is it because I'm an asshole?" exclaimed Marty.

Marty saw a bowling ball appear on the ground, and without warning, he picked it up and threw it at every single hula hoop girl he could see.

"What the hell?" said Marty as he continued throwing an infinite number of bowling balls at the hula hoop girls. He then noticed the clothes on his body. "Why am I wearing a sleeveless black shirt and a black helmet?"

As Marty began to think why he was not wearing his trademark clothing (and why there were guys carrying windows in front of him), he saw a bench in front of him. Seeing no other alternative, he decided to jump over it. He jumped… and he falls.

"What the fuck?!" yelled Marty as he thrashed on the ground after failing to get over the bench. "Why does it look like I'm having a seizure?"

"What are you doing Marty McFly?" yelled a voice from somewhere else.

"I just can't get over this fucking bench," said an exasperated Marty.

The sun rose on the Chicago suburbs. The birds were singing, the squirrels were playing in the yard, the children were waving goodbye to their parents on their way to school, and the Angry Video Game Nerd was playing the Back to the Future game on the Nintendo Entertainment System.

"I'd rather eat out the rotten asshole of a road killed skunk than play this fucking piece of shit," said the Angry Video Game Nerd as he drank from a bottle of Rolling Rock beer.

"If you hate the Back to the Future game, why are you still playing it?" said the Nostalgia Critic as he was standing behind the couch where the Angry Video Game Nerd was seated at.

"Because by playing shitty games, I can unleash my rage to my full advantage as an Internet Police agent," said the Angry Video Game Nerd as he popped the Back to the Future game out of the Nintendo game system.

"Do you really need all of these shitty games filling up the space of my house?" said the Nostalgia Critic as he looked around the living room at the piles of video games scattered throughout the floor. "It wasn't a part of the roommate contract that you infect my house with these abominations."

"I'm the fucking nerd," retorted the Angry Video Game Nerd. "Like I said before, I need these video games to make me feel angry like the Hulk, thus unleashing my full powers to my enemies. The Hulk becomes the Hulk by getting mad, and so do I. And besides, I purchase all of these awful video games to destroy them afterwards, thus sparing the world from being exposed to them. Say, Nostalgia Critic, will you hand me that toaster for me?"

The Nostalgia Critic handed the Angry Video Game Nerd the toaster, perplexed by the Nerd's request. The Angry Video Game Nerd placed the 1989 Back to the Future game into the toaster slot, and pressed the lever on the side of the toaster. The game spontaneously exploded in a ball of flames.

"Alright!" shouted the Angry Video Game Nerd, "Now I'm ready to start a brand new day!"

The Nostalgia Critic looked confused as he walked slowly away from the Angry Video Game Nerd.

HurricaneAubrey was sitting on the specialized red subway that was carrying regular employees. She was wearing a shirt with yellow and white stripes (the same one she wore in her 51 Things I Found Around My House video), blue jeans, and sneakers to the Internet Police Complex. As it turned out, no specific dress clothes at the Internet Police Complex existed, meaning that she could wear everyday clothing to work. As people departed and entered into the red subway, she saw that all of them were carrying electronic devices to watch videos or listen to music, with her being the only person to pay attention to her surroundings.

"These people go onto the internet on a daily basis, and yet, they remain ignorant of a police force trying to protect them from threats they could not fathom," HurricaneAubrey thought.  
"Little did they know that they were right next to a member of that secret organization dedicated to defend their right to enjoy the internet without being harmed by unscrupulous people."

Soon, HurricaneAubrey was the only person left on the red subway car when the last few people left the subway station near Chicago's Loop. The destination of the Willis Tower was in Chicago's Loop, and as the red subway car moved past an aging Under Construction sign, the subway car reached a dead end. Soon afterwards, HurricaneAubrey inserted her membership card into an electronic slot underneath a seat.

"HurricaneAubrey, member of the Internet Police. I am here to work at the Internet Police Complex," stated HurricaneAubrey into the subway car's speakers.

Just like in the Willis Tower's elevator, red and blue lights filled the subway car, scanning to see if it really was HurricaneAubrey present within the subway car.

"Access confirmed," said the female voice. "Welcome to the Internet Police Complex, HurricaneAubrey. You may establish your office at the Internet Police Complex. Have a nice day."

The wall blocking the red subway car moved out of the way, allowing access to a secret track that led directly beneath the Willis Tower. Eventually, the red subway car reached a subway station that was lined with flat-screen televisions that presented various internet-related topics. Making her way up the flight of marble steps that opened up to the Hub, HurricaneAubrey saw the massive television screens that were situated throughout the Hub, feeding the same information as the flat-screen televisions within the subway station.

"Today, the Institute of Internet Studies, the most prestigious research organization of memes and other internet phenomena, is currently confronting opposition regarding the construction of the Museum of Internet Culture," announced reporter Brian Collins as he was standing in the midst of what looked like a gargantuan research park in Silicon Valley. "This opposition group, known as the Anti-Mutationists, has criticized the Institute of Internet Studies for suggesting the idea that internet memes, concepts or ideas originating online, mutate. They argue that the innumerable memes found on the internet are created individually and are completely unrelated to one another, and that the proposed Museum of Internet Culture would indoctrinate children into believing this Theory of Memetic Mutation. Here is a clip of Republican Representative Lame R. Prick giving his insight on the whole debate to a crowd of Anti-Mutationists in Dallas."

The television screens showed Lame R. Prick speaking in Dallas to an eager crowd, of who were holding signs like Mutations are Abominations and Memetic Mutation is just a theory.

"Howdy folks. All I have to say to the Institute of Internet Studies and their Theory of Memetic Mutation is this: I don't believe in mutations, and I know that all memes are created separately by their creator," said Lame R. Prick as his audience erupted in applause and cheers. "For too long, the forces on the internet had us believe that certain memes are interconnected to each other through variations by their intelligent designers. While I do accept that memes are created by intelligent design, I object to the idea that memes mutate from an original template. I mean, who would accept the fact that one Philosoraptor meme is directly related to another Philosoraptor meme. Come on ladies and gentlemen, these memes have nothing in common with each other, and besides, raptors and other dinosaurs don't exist today. They existed 6000 years ago. Anyway, I now stand before you in waging this fight against these Mutationists seeking to pollute the minds of impressionable young children everywhere. Let us battle against the Institute of Internet Studies to the very end."

The crowd applauded enthusiastically as Lame R. Prick held up his arms towards the sky. The clip shifted back to Brian Collins in Silicon Valley.

"The Institute of Internet Studies has declined my request for an interview with them, but they did say that they would be pleased to hold a debate with Lame R. Prick regarding the controversy over the Theory of Memetic Mutation," stated Brian Collins. "Reporting live from Silicon Valley, this is Brian Collins.

"Thank you, Mr. Collins," said the female news anchor, "But aren't you forgetting something."

"Not that I aware of ma'am," replied Brian Collins.

"I believe that you forgot to say those four magical words: Boom Goes the Dynamite," said the female news anchor.

"You do realize that I want to start my journalist career away from the scrutiny of the internet and be treated both seriously and professionally. I don't want to be viewed as the man condemned to saying those four words for the rest of my life. Besides, we are talking about science, not sports for that matter."

"Come on say it, Mr. Collins." said the female news anchor.

"No," answered Mr. Collins.

"Go on. Say it," replied the female news anchor.

"Fine," said an exasperated Mr. Collins. "Boom Goes the Dynamite. There, happy."

"Thank you, Mr. Collins," answered the smiling female news anchor, "Coming up next, tensions between Greendale Community College and City College in Colorado escalate as they argue over if they want to argue or not."

Being informed of the current events, HurricaneAubrey made her way to her new office space, and after a few minutes on the glass elevator, she reached her assigned floor. She eventually found her personal workspace in one of the rooms. HurricaneAubrey's working room had bare walls, a glass desk, and a window that overlooked the Art Institute of Chicago, one of the greatest art museums in the United States. HurricaneAubrey gazed upon the Art Institute of Chicago and thought to visit it sometime later. But for now, she needed to get to work at her desk. She took out her own laptop and a picture of her two friends in the rain, and after turning the laptop on, she noticed a note on her table.

"Assignments for a rookie at the Internet Police are as followed: assisting the more professional Internet Police agents and searching the internet for any potential criminal activity," addressed the note.

Knowing what to do, HurricaneAubrey began her search through the internet for any suspicious activity. She ventured through websites like Know Your , Wikipedia, TV Tropes, and YouTube for the scum of the web. After a few minutes of searching, she already found several individuals she thought were dubious. One of them was Fred Figglehorn. She watched a few clips of this Fred character online, and she was irritated when she witnessed the video Fred Goes Swimming.

"Hey it's Fred!" said the high-pitched Fred to the camera. In HurricaneAubrey's opinion, he was an attention seeking whore who does random acts in front of the camera. Now Fred was swimming in an inflatable pool in his backyard and making a fool of himself.

"Oh my God! I just peed inside the pool! My mom's going to be so mad because she said I'm not allowed to pee inside it! Why did I do that?!" said Fred in his squeaky voice as he started to scream and whine.

"I saw enough," said HurricaneAubrey as she closed the video and began writing an article stating why she thought Fred Figglehorn was part of the scum of the web.

After viewing the video, HurricaneAubrey couldn't believe that Fred was once one of the most subscribed users on YouTube. Why did people subscribe to a person with no creativity and no talent (unless you counted the talent of being an annoyance)?

"No wonder the Internet Police hates Fred Figglehorn with the heat of a thousand suns," thought HurricaneAubrey as she continued typing the article about the threat and dangers posed by Fred.

After finishing the article about Fred Figglehorn, HurricaneAubrey shifted her attention towards another scum of the web, one that was a personal attack on her: Jersey Shore. What she saw was something no sane human being should witness if they wanted to maintain their faith in the human race. She saw many horrible things. She saw men and women with the IQ of amoebas beating each other up for no reason. She saw drugs and steroids being used excessively. She saw egotism and narcissism being displayed without the slightest bit of shame. But worst of all, the participants of Jersey Shore were all supposedly Italian-Americans, and since HurricaneAubrey was herself an Italian-American, she shared an uncomfortable connection with these barbaric people. Much to her horror, she could picture herself being with these people if she was raised in the same environment.

"What happened to the reputation of Italians throughout the world?" shouted HurricaneAubrey. "For centuries, we were viewed as the center of civilization throughout our leadership of the Roman Empire and the Roman Catholic Church. We carried Europe out of the Middle Ages and into the Renaissance. We gave the world such geniuses like Michelangelo, Galileo Galilee, and Leonardo da Vinci. And we have a history and a heritage unmatched by any other country in the world. Woe to these barbarians for undermining the reputation of their Italian brothers and sisters!"

HurricaneAubrey rubbed her hand on her forehead in frustration. After a few minutes, she resumed her search on the internet.

"For everything good about the internet, there would inevitably be utter filth on it," thought HurricaneAubrey to herself.

In Chicago, one of the tallest buildings in the world was swaying the wind. This building was called many different names. One was the Willis Tower. Another was the Sears Tower. Though the Willis Tower was the official name for the structure, many Chicagoans preferred to call it the Sears Tower, which was the original name for the tower. At the top of the Sears Tower (right below the observation deck) was the Chief's office. To gain access to the Chief's office, Internet Police agents had to either be requested by the Chief personally or ask for an appointment at the reception room directly beneath the Chief's office. The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd approached the desk where a hologram of the Chief was situated behind.

"State the intent of your visit," stated the hologram of the Chief.

"We were personally requested by the Chief regarding information concerning Operation Knox," said the Angry Video Game Nerd. "Permission to see the Chief."

"Permission granted," stated the Chief's hologram as a ramp was being lowered from the ceiling. "Go on up and have a nice day."

Once agents had permission to enter the Chief's office, they were greeted with the sight of a cluttered mess. For one thing, the walls of the office were covered in maps of several geographic locales throughout the world. As for the floor, it was covered in many boxes containing several global artifacts, ranging from African masks to didgeridoos. It would appear that the Chief had an avid interest in human geography. And in this jumbled office, the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd were now standing in front of the Chief's desk, of which the spectacular Chicago skyline was displayed on the large window behind her. But the Chief was not alone in her office. There was a man standing with his arms crossed, and he was wearing a blue polo shirt with khaki pants.

"Let's hope that his presence here doesn't have anything to do with that fiasco in South Carolina," said the Nostalgia Critic as he stared at the man standing right next to the Chief's desk.

"The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd, you are already aware of a plot to rob Fort Knox by a group of South Carolinians, and that the intent of your mission in South Carolina was to figure out whom exactly is behind the so-called scheme known as Operation Knox," said the Chief.

"Yes," answered the Nostalgia Critic. "The Angry Video Game Nerd and I traveled to Hilton Head Beach in order to investigate an abandoned shack that was inhabited by the participants of Operation Knox."

The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd each had a flashback to their adventure in South Carolina. And just like that, they were back on Hilton Head Beach, searching for the hiding place of the Operation Knox participants in the middle of the night.

"We're closing in on them," said the Angry Video Game Nerd as he shined his flashlight on the abandoned shack.

"Let's bust in on them," exclaimed the Nostalgia Critic as he loaded up his gun.

"Okay, Critic," said the Nerd. "But let's be subtle about it."

The Angry Video Game Nerd and the Nostalgia Critic approached the shack's door, with the Nostalgia Critic prompting kicking the door down.

"I said to be subtle about breaking and entering," complained the Angry Video Game Nerd.

"Like I have issues compared to you," countered the Nostalgia Critic. "After all, you're the self-proclaimed Angry Video Game Nerd."

"I guess that's right. I am the fucking Angry Video Game Nerd," said the Nerd with a chuckle.

The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd were close partners in the Internet Police for many years, and they were used to these friendly jabs at each other. But of course, they still had several new issues to iron out between each other every single day. They searched through the dark shack with flashlights, shining them in every possible direction. As it turned out, the participants of Operation Knox had cleared the entire shack of any information regarding their plans, preventing anyone from stopping them. But the Nostalgia Critic found something on the ground that would prove vital to their mission in stopping them.

"Look over here, Nerd," said the Nostalgia Critic as he looked at an abandoned napkin on the floor. "It appears that their plan to rob Fort Knox is to dig directly underneath it, making their way up its foundations."

"It's fucking brilliant," said the Nerd in awe. "That way, they can avoid the U.S. military, the land mines, the electric fences, and the laser triggered machine guns."

The Chief listened as the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd recounted their tale in South Carolina. It appeared that the Chief was nodding in approval as she was handed the napkin showing how Fort Knox would be broken in by digging beneath the ground.

"Ah. I see. Well done Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd."

"Thank you," said the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd in agreement.

"But what about involving the Irate Gamer in your mission?" insisted the Chief as she drew the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd attention towards the Irate Gamer, who was standing next to her desk.

"The Irate Gamer?" said the Nerd with reluctance. "Oh yeah. He was also with us in South Carolina."

"So the Chief does know about that minor fiasco in South Carolina," thought the Nostalgia Critic to himself.

"Care to explain?" asked the Chief.

"Oh all right," said the Nerd as he started to explain about the less savory parts of their South Carolina mission.

The Nostalgia Critic, the Angry Video Game Nerd, and the Irate Gamer were riding in the DeLorean through the backwoods of South Carolina towards Hilton Head Beach. As the Nostalgia Critic was driving the DeLorean, the Irate Gamer was badgering the Angry Video Game Nerd about the scientific importance of his Paranormal Research.

"I really think that my haunted investigations would be essential to advancing the cause of the Internet Police," said the Irate Gamer towards an increasingly frustrated Angry Video Game Nerd.

"May I remind you that your so-called evidence of paranormal activities were photographs of toilets and a cut-out sheet of a ghost," said the Nerd with a condescending tone.

"But I have the proper equipment to prove the existence of ghosts and other paranormal activities," said the Irate Gamer as he took a couple of electronic gadgets from his bag, handing them over to the Nerd. "I have handheld digital video cameras, EMF (electromagnetic field) meters, digital audio recorders, and digital thermometers."

The Nostalgia Critic looked in the dash view mirror at the Nerd as he stared with bewilderment at the jumble of electronic equipments in his hands. Sensing the Nerd's annoyance of the Irate Gamer's obsession with ghosts, the Nostalgia Critic thought of a plan to distract the Irate Gamer from the main mission.

"These equipments are pieces of shit and are irrelevant to the purpose of our mission," said the Nerd.

"But I want to use them!" cried the Irate Gamer like a kid wanting a lollipop from the candy store. "I heard that Charleston is one of the most haunted places in America."

Before the Nerd could respond with another criticism of the Irate Gamer's pointless pursuit of the paranormal, the Nostalgia Critic stopped in front of a trailer in the middle of a rundown neighborhood.

"I heard that this house is the most haunted building in the entire world," said the Nostalgia Critic as he gestured towards the trailer where the lights were clicking on and off as loud bangs were being emitted from it. It sounded like someone was beating up a cat in there.

"Oh my," stated the Irate Gamer. "Now that's a haunted house. I should explore it."

"You should," said the Nostalgia Critic as he smiled awkwardly.

The Irate Gamer got out of the DeLorean and made his way towards the trailer, where horrible noises were being emitted from it. It appeared that pieces of furniture were being thrown inside the trailer. The Irate Gamer stared back at the DeLorean with a wide smile as he entered into the trailer. Seeing that the Irate Gamer was completely inside the trailer, the Nostalgia Critic immediately pushed on the gas pedal and drove the DeLorean out of the neighborhood.

"I'm fucking glad that we just happened to come across a supposedly haunted house to get the Irate Gamer out of our business," said the Nerd as he leaned back in his seat.

"Actually. That trailer wasn't haunted at all," said the Nostalgia Critic as he drove on the highway towards Hilton Head Beach.

"Let me carry it from here you dumbfucks," said the Irate Gamer as he moved away from the Chief's desk and marched directly in front of the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd. "You lied to me about that trailer being haunted. It contained something much worse than ghosts or ghouls."

The Irate Gamer thought back to the horrible incident in the trailer as he positioned his angry face towards the Nostalgia Critic's and the Angry Video Game Nerd's guilty faces. As he remembered, the Irate Gamer was gleeful at the prospect of meeting the ghost that was rampaging through the trailer. Turning on his night-vision digital camera, the Irate Gamer entered into the trailer. He was greeted with the sight of total destruction as he saw the stove and the refrigerator turned on its side along with food being scattered throughout the floor. Steeping over the carnage, the Irate Gamer saw through his night-vision digital camera a figure approaching him.

"Can you make a noise for me?" asked the Irate Gamer as he held up a digital audio recorder.

"Get out of my fucking house!" shouted the figure directly into the night-vision digital camera.

The Irate Gamer looked through the night-vision digital camera and saw a bearded old man with glasses staring at him. He looked awfully solid for a ghost.

"I don't want you in my house!" shouted the man as spit flew from his mouth and onto the camera's lens.

In the Irate Gamer's opinion, he was the scariest ghost he had ever seen.

"Get the fuck away from me!" shouted the Irate Gamer as he dodged a flying crowbar at him.

"Take that, you son of a bitch!" shouted the breaded man as he marched towards him.

"You want to play hardball. Come and get me ghost," exclaimed the Irate Gamer as he attempted to gather more footage of the angry man breaking more things in his trailer.

"I ain't no fucking ghost! I'm just an angry grandpa who is pissed off at you for breaking into my house!" shouted the angry man as he pushed the Irate Gamer onto the floor.

That was when the Irate Gamer realized that he was not a ghost, and before the angry man could hit him on the head with a plank, the Irate Gamer got up and got out of the trailer. But when he left the trailer, he noticed that the DeLorean wasn't there. And so, he ran as fast as he could away from the angry man pursuing him with a wooden plank.

"You don't know how fast the Angry Grandpa can run when he's in rage mode," said the Irate Gamer everyone in the Chief's office. "Why did you leave me behind there, Nostalgia Critic?"

"I just wanted you to not interfere with the intended mission the Nerd and I were about to carry out at Hilton Head Beach," explained the Nostalgia Critic. "After all, the Nerd and I make a great team. With you butting in, not so much."

"And let's not forget your attempts to steal credit for my scientific discoveries in the Enrichment Center in order to bolster the credibility of your Paranormal Research," said the Nerd to the Irate Gamer. "I think you got what was coming when you decide to put greater importance on your boondoggle projects over your companions."

"I just know that my ventures into the paranormal will yield positive results," insisted the Irate Gamer to the skeptical looks of the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd. "Trust me on that."

The Chief looked at the Irate Gamer for a few seconds before shifted the attention towards the Nostalgia Critic. She repeated this process as she gazed at the Angry Video Game Nerd. Finally, she cleared her throat and started to speak.

"Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd. You two have been capable of some spectacular arrests in the past

"We appreciate that," said the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd in unison.

"But unfortunately, you two have also been responsible for some fatal blunders," said the Chief. "I think you should remember the incident back at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum before you make claims about not needing anyone else for your missions."

"Got it," replied the Nostalgia Critic with some hesitance.

"Right on it, Chief," answered the Angry Video Game Nerd as he shifted his feet guiltily.

"And Irate Gamer," continued the Chief, "I am losing faith in the viability of your Paranormal Research, considering the fact that it failed to yield positive results in regards to how the Internet Police conducts its missions. And to matters worse, you are alienating yourself from your peers by not focusing on missions and violating their trust of you. Let's hope that you examine yourself before continuing your life as an Internet Police agent"

"I'll try that," said the Irate Gamer with a forced smile on his face.

The Chief saw the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd departing from the office.

"Oh. And one last thing," said the Chief as she saw the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd at the ramp leading down to the reception area, "Let's hope that you do not fail this mission. Best of luck to both of you."

"So the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd are off to Kentucky to put an end to Operation Knox?" said HurricaneAubrey. HurricaneAubrey was talking to Wheatley in the Great Hall. She was sitting alone with Wheatley, with the other agents eating at a distance away from her.

"That's right," said Wheatley, "The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd are closing in on this nefarious plot to rob Fort Knox."

HurricaneAubrey noticed her isolation from the rest of the people consuming their meals. Sensing HurricaneAubrey's feelings of loneliness, Wheatley decided to share his thoughts on the matter.

"Don't worry. You'll soon fit in with the other Internet Police agents in due time. You just need some more experience being an Internet Police agent. Convince them that you are not rash or immature and that you are courageous and level-headed," suggested Wheatley. Wheatley saw that HurricaneAubrey's countenance remained sad. "What else is bothering you?"

HurricaneAubrey thought back to her exposure to Jersey Shore and told Wheatley how her exposure to the show negatively affected her.

"Ah. Jersey Shore. A show from the darkest recesses of the human mind," said Wheatley to HurricaneAubrey. "I understand why a show about the worst aspects of the human race, from its lack of empathy to its tendency towards violence, would hurt you psychologically."

"I guess you summarized what I thought," said HurricaneAubrey as she stared glumly at her food.

"How about I take you somewhere in which will make you feel better as an Internet Police agent and as an intelligent individual?" asked Wheatley.

Wanting to get her problems out of her head, HurricaneAubrey agreed to Wheatley's idea. After a few moments in the glass elevator, HurricaneAubrey found herself in the Gymnasium, and she saw Internet Police agents shooting cardboard targets, an act of which she had seen during her Orientation tour. She saw other cardboard targets that were being shot at, but having the strange feeling of being watched by people that were not Internet Police agents, she decided not to say their names out loud.

"Here is the cast of Jersey Shore in cardboard form," said Wheatley as he drew HurricaneAubrey's attention towards the cardboard copies of the Jersey Shore cast. He then indicated to her a rack full of guns. "And here are your weapons against the scum of the web. Choose wisely."

HurricaneAubrey picked up a small handheld gun and aimed directly towards the Jersey Shore cardboard. She fired, and she missed.

"Concentrate. You're got to keep focus on the target, especially what they did to you and your heritage," said Wheatley.

But try as she might, HurricaneAubrey couldn't hit the cardboard cast of Jersey Shore correctly, not even with a machine gun. She felt uncomfortable with a machine gun as she simply sprayed bullets in any other direction besides the Jersey Shore cast. People were sent running from HurricaneAubrey as she couldn't control the machine gun properly. The bullets barely avoided hitting the other Internet Police agents and a few of them even bounced off of Wheatley's body. Thankfully, she managed to injury no one, not even Wheatley.

"Okay," said Wheatley nonchalantly. "I guess guns are not your thing. Let's try this sword."

HurricaneAubrey saw Wheatley control several robotic arms to hand her a sword, which was the same one she saw at her Initiation Ceremony. On closer examination, it was a traditional Japanese katana, characterized as a curved, single-edged blade. HurricaneAubrey held the katana in her hands. She felt as if all of her ambition and life energy was being channeled into the katana. Feeling a greater sense of confidence, she charged towards the cast of Jersey Shore, slicing off the heads of their cardboard copy with ease.

"That's the spirit!" exclaimed Wheatley as he moved closer to HurricaneAubrey, of whom was smiling after having taken all of her anger on the now decapitated Jersey Shore cardboard copy. "Now try the rapier."

Having been handed rapier, which was thinner and lighter than the Japanese katana, HurricaneAubrey began slicing the Jersey Shore cardboard copy further. It appears that the rapier was more effective in causing minor cuts on the intended target than the katana.

"Excellent," said Wheatley. "Would you like to try more swords?"

One by one, HurricaneAubrey tried out other swords that included the following: the medieval longsword, the Roman gladius, and the Scottish claymore. She tried them all on the Jersey Shore cardboard copy. By the time she was done with her training, all that was left was a pile of cardboard debris.

"How do you feel right now?" asked Wheatley as he saw HurricaneAubrey panting heavily and sweating profusely as she held the katana in her hand.

"I feel relieved," professed HurricaneAubrey with a satisfied look on her face. "You're absolutely right. I need to channel my suppressed feelings and emotions towards something more productive."

"Good," said Wheatley.

"I'm telling you, someone is trying to dig underneath Fort Knox to rob it!" shouted the Nostalgia Critic as he drove directly towards Fort Knox in the DeLorean.

The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd were on the highway, heading straight to Fort Knox, Kentucky. Fort Knox was where the United States Bullion Depository was headquarters, which contained one of the nation's largest reserves of gold. The Nostalgia Critic was talking on his cell phone, trying to get the U.S. military to take the threat of Operation Knox seriously.

"I ain't worried about no robbery," said a dim-witted voice addressing the Nostalgia Critic's concerns. "Don't you show some weakness there, boy. Fort Knox is secured as a chicken's coop."

"But that chicken's coop has a weakness that can be exploited from underground," said the Nostalgia Critic.

"Stop talking, little man. With the U.S. military on the patrol, you ain't got nothing to worry about. Ain't nobody going to break into Fort Knox. Salutations to you, boy."

The Nostalgia Critic heard the call being dropped, and the Angry Video Game Nerd saw the Nostalgia Critic shake his head in frustration.

"So where do you think the plotters of Operation Knox are going to dig from?" said the Nostalgia Critic as he poured ketchup into a paper container.

"I think they need a massive structure to hide their digging operation, or else, the whole plan will be exposed right in the fucking open," answered the Angry Video Game Nerd as he dipped a Kentucky Fried Chicken drumstick into a pile of ketchup. "After all, they need an army of trucks to carry all of that gold from Fort Knox."

The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd were eating at a local Kentucky Fried Chicken store in Fort Knox, which was covered in posters of its founder Colonel Sanders (who was a bearded man in a white suit). They were thinking about their options after having failed to convince the U.S. military about the threat posed by Operation Knox.

"I was thinking of that. Where would they be able to carry out Operation Knox from one central location? After all, we already called every business housed in a building that could potentially hold an army of trucks, and every single enterprise denied seeing so much as a single dump truck."

At that very moment, a Kentucky Fried Chicken oil truck passed by the window of the store.

"We have been seeing a lot of those Kentucky Fried Chicken oil trucks lately," confessed the Nostalgia Critic. "I mean, we saw one on practically every street corner in Fort Knox. Are they having a Kentucky Fried Chicken rally right now?"

The Angry Video Game Nerd shrugged his shoulders as he and the Nostalgia Critic continued eating their meal of chicken.

"Are you playing on the video gaming system again while we're on a mission?" said the Nostalgia Critic as he drove the DeLorean around Fort Knox. He saw the Angry Video Game Nerd focusing his attention on the game he was currently playing. "Why did I install that television in the DeLorean in the first place?"

"Like I said back at your house, I need these games to unleash my anger to maximum effect on my enemies, and plus, I would doing humanity a favor by ridding the world of these shitty games. Right now, I'm playing Mario is Missing on the Nintendo Entertainment System, and I'll tell you, it's one of the worst Mario games I have ever played. I mean, Luigi deserves better in his first featured game. In this piece of shit, Luigi is in New York City trying to return objects to their proper landmarks. That's it. You just have to take the bags containing the objects from the Koopa troopers. But the worst part of all is that they had the balls to call it an educational game. For fuck's sake, you need to return King Kong back to the Empire State Building, which is wrong on many levels considering that he doesn't exist and that the New Yorkers wanted to get King Kong off the Empire State Building."

The Nostalgia Critic knew that the Angry Video Game Nerd was known for his rants against shitty games, and he allowed him to continue without any interruptions.

"I need a fucking drink," said the Angry Video Game Nerd as he drank from a bottle of Rolling Rock beer.

He prompted Luigi to go down a pipe to travel to the next stage of the game.

"What a fucking piece of shit?" said the Nerd as he took another drink from the bottle.

Another Kentucky Fried Chicken oil truck passed by the DeLorean as the Angry Video Game Nerd went back to playing Mario is Missing. The Angry Video Game Nerd thought about the oil truck that went past the Nostalgia Critic and him as well as the pipe Luigi was traveling through. All of a sudden, the Angry Video Game Nerd realized how Operation Knox could be proved off with all of its complexity and its intricate plans.

"I have been struck with an epiphany!" proclaimed the Nerd. "We need to get the Chief on the phone."

The United States Bullion Depository, simply known as Fort Knox to many people, was one of the most heavily guarded buildings in America, if not the world. From having a battalion of troop and tanks surrounding the perimeter of the depository to having laser triggered machine guns situated throughout the complex, one must be a fool to try to rob from it. In fact, only man has attempted to break into Fort Knox, and he was a fictional character to boot. His name was Goldfinger, the big bad from the James Bond movie Goldfinger. But now, Fort Knox was going to be robbed by people you would have least expected to carry out such an operation. A lone U.S. military soldier was leaning against a railing, having a full view of the concrete floor surrounded by piles upon piles of gold bars. Amidst the mountains of gold bars were the unconscious bodies of the Mint Police, who were intended to protect Fort Knox from the inside.

"It's about time to empty this place out," announced the renegade U.S. soldier.

Almost on cue, the concrete floor was breached as a hole was being formed down below. Two figures emerged from the hole. One was a blonde girl and the other was a man with a mullet, and they were both wearing American military uniforms.

"Do you have everything we need to render Fort Knox into a glorified nuclear bunker?" shouted the renegade U.S. soldier to the two individuals on the concrete floor.

"Yep. I do declare that I'll be doing a little shopping. I think these gold bars would look nice," said the blond girl.

"I do reckon that we should get started as soon as possible. Now get down here and help us boy!" shouted the man with the mullet.

The renegade American soldier smiled as he joined the two people who he would know as the robbers of Fort Knox: Miss Teen South Carolina and Almost Politically Correct Redneck.

**Please review this story to give me some advice on improving it. Give me suggestions on which internet memes or celebrities should be featured in this story. After all, the internet has countless things that can be incorporated into the Internet Police Universe. So give me some ideas on what should be included in the Internet Police Universe. **


	4. Operation Knox, Part 2

**I do not own any of the internet personalities or memes presented in this story.**

The Internet Police: The Will of the Internet

Operation Knox, Part 2

Kentucky was nicknamed the Bluegrass State, a reference to how the state was covered in bluegrass due to its fertile soil. Besides its name, Kentucky was also unique its terms of its sport, its geology, and its treasures. Kentuckian sport came in the form of the Kentucky Derby, while Kentuckian geology included Mammoth Cave National Park (containing the world's longest cave system). But what Kentucky was most known worldwide was Fort Knox, the guardian of one of America's largest gold reserves. For many years, it was considered impenetrable and impregnable by any sane person. But now, Fort Knox had been breached and was being emptied out by a renegade U.S. soldier, a blonde Southern girl, and an almost politically correct redneck. They had received a call on their videophone from a figure dressed in a white suit, of whose face was obscured in the shadows.

"How's Operation Knox going?" said the mysterious man with an accent spoken by an old Southern gentleman.

"It's going as planned, Colonel Sanders" said the renegade U.S. soldier as he spoke into the videophone.

"Excellent. You seem to be have infiltrated Fort Knox quite well," said the hidden man known as Colonel Sanders.

"Well not exactly. I was talking on the phone with someone who claimed that Fort Knox was going to be robbed at this very moment," said the renegade U.S. soldier. "Of course, I denied that such an attack was possible."

"Just make sure to alert the other members of Operation Knox to be on the lookout for anybody who tries to sabotage our plan," stated Colonel Sanders.

"Got it," said the renegade U.S. soldier.

"Did you knock out all of the Mint Police guards inside and turned off all of the interior alarms and cameras?" interjected Colonel Sanders.

"Yep," said the renegade U.S. soldier. "I followed every single line of your instructions as you spoke them into my ear."

"Yes," said Colonel Sanders. "Without my brilliant mind, you wouldn't even know how to turn on and off a videophone."

"That's not true!" countered the renegade U.S. solider.

"Suit yourself. Anyway, tell your two partners in crime to get all of the gold out of Fort Knox as quickly as possible, B.…"

"Don't call me by my real name!" exclaimed the renegade U.S. soldier. "My code name is Unanimous."

"Okay, Unanimous. Or should I say Anonymous," chuckled Colonel Sanders.

Unanimous was red in the face at how Colonel Sanders mocked him.

"Just get all of the gold out of Fort Knox to fund the next phase of our grand scheme," said Colonel Sanders.

"Okay," said Unanimous. "Over and out."

Unanimous pushed a button to turn off the videophone. But nothing happened except that the volume to the videophone was turned up.

"I said over and out," said Unanimous as he tried to turn off the videophone, but all it did was make the videophone vibrate and beep.

"Oh for the love of chicken. Just push the big button behind the videophone," said Colonel Sanders.

Unanimous found the massive button on the back of the videophone, which turned it off.

"Right," said Unanimous to the bewildered looks of Miss Teen South Carolina and Almost Politically Correct Redneck. "Let's get to work."

The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd were racing away from Fort Knox and towards a destination that they knew would be vital to destroying Operation Knox. The Angry Video Game Nerd was contacting the Chief on the G.E.D. about their plan.

"Chief. I think we know how to put an end to Operation Knox," said the Angry Video Game Nerd.

At the Internet Police Complex in Chicago, the Chief was entering a glass elevator in order to see what was malfunctioning in the Universe Room. She had received a call from the Angry Video Game Nerd from her G.E.D., answering it as she headed towards the Universe Room on the glass elevator. She failed to notice that HurricaneAubrey was standing behind her.

"Tell me how," said the Chief with a puzzled look on her face.

"Right now, we are currently traveling away from Fort Knox," said the Angry Video Game Nerd, knowing that this statement would seem both confusing and counterintuitive to the Chief.

"Why on earth would you do that?!" shouted the Chief.

"Trust me on this," continued the Angry Video Game Nerd. "The answer came to me in the form of Kentucky Fried Chicken and the pipes from the Mario games."

Both the Chief and HurricaneAubrey had blank expressions on their faces as the Angry Video Game Nerd tried to tell them of his preposterous idea.

"Care to elaborate?" asked the Chief.

"As you wish, Chief. But listen in closer so no moles can listen in on our conversation," insisted the Angry Video Game Nerd.

The Chief lowered the volume of the G.E.D. as she listened to what else the Angry Video Game Nerd had to say. From HurricaneAubrey's perspective, the Angry Video Game Nerd was spouting out random gibberish from the other end of the G.E.D. But as the glass elevator continued its journey towards the Chief's destination, the Chief was showing a smile on her face as she held the G.E.D. directly over her ear.

"Ingenious. You are simply marvelous," said the Chief proudly. "Just carry out your mission on preventing the robbery of Fort Knox."

The Chief turned off the G.E.D. as the glass elevator arrived at the Universe Room, which HurricaneAubrey saw that the Universe Room held an assortment of things that were replicas of everything strange found in outer space. From having floating planets, asteroids, stars, and even exploding supernovas, the Universe Room was another marvel to behold at the Internet Police Complex. And the Chief was now breaking up a fight going on between two Internet Police agents.

"What are you two fighting about?" said the Chief.

"This bumbling idiot is insisting that Pluto be included into this model of the solar system," explained the Internet Police agent.

"But Pluto is a planet, no matter what those dumbass scientists say," objected the other Internet Police agent. "Pluto will always and forevermore be a planet, and will always remain close to my heart."

But before HurricaneAubrey could continue to be witness to the great debate regarding Pluto's place in the universe, she remembered that Wheatley wanted her to proceed towards the Test Chambers, and so, HurricaneAubrey pushed the button Test Chambers inside the glass elevator. She was whisked away towards the Internet Police Complex's Test Chambers. The glass elevator reached an area containing a series of cubed rooms containing nothing except bare walls. HurricaneAubrey exited the glass elevator and entered one of the test chambers, which happened to have a large monitor displaying Wheatley.

"Ah you made it," said Wheatley on the monitor. "Do you see anything in the test chamber you are currently in?"

"No," said HurricaneAubrey as she gazed around the test chamber.

"Can you think of any training you can do inside the Test Chamber?" asked Wheatley.

"I guess you can do laps around it," answered HurricaneAubrey. "That's basically it."

"Oh you'll be surprised about the many possible training simulations that are made possible by the Test Chamber," said Wheatley.

And without warning, the floor to the Test Chamber began was elevating right below HurricaneAubrey, and at the same time, the walls began enclosing upon her. Some of the tiles on the floor were rising while some remained in their place, with the same process happening with the wall tiles as some stayed stationary while others were closing in on HurricaneAubrey. When everything became still, the Test Chamber looked completely different. It was smaller and more compact than before, and now there were platforms that were suspended just slightly above the ground level, of which HurricaneAubrey was on one of them.

"Prepare for the unpredictable," thought HurricaneAubrey to herself.

"Impressive, isn't it," said Wheatley. "These panels are totally configurable to fit any scenario that every Internet Police agent could face in the field. If you want to train in an Arctic environment, the Test Chamber will obey your command."

Once again, the panels in the Test Chamber were reconfiguring to fit the description of an Arctic setting. The walls were expanding while the panels on the ground were moving to make the floor rougher and more natural. Meanwhile, the air around HurricaneAubrey became colder and windier, and most unusual of all, the panels were themselves monitors, projecting images of a typical Arctic environment from them.

"And viola! That's how the Test Chamber is able to replicate the Arctic setting according to your wishes," said Wheatley.

"What about New York City?" said HurricaneAubrey. She was thinking about her hometown and one of the greatest urban areas in the world.

"New York City?" said Wheatley. "The Big Apple? Gotham? The City that Never Sleeps? NYC? The Capital of the World? New Amsterdam? The City So Nice They Named It Twice?"

HurricaneAubrey didn't know that New York City was known by so many nicknames despite being a native of Brooklyn herself.

"Got it. New York City, the city known by many names," stated Wheatley.

The Test Chamber HurricaneAubrey was in was now being merged with the other Test Chambers, combining to create one gargantuan Test Chamber. The panels were reconfiguring into the shapes of the world-renown skyscrapers of the Manhattan skyline. Soon, HurricaneAubrey found herself in a duplicate of the world-famous Times Square at night, and besides the absent of any actual cars and pedestrians, HurricaneAubrey had to admit that this version of Times Square was exactly like the real thing, complete with honking horns and talking crowds.

"I'm I just wonderful?" said Wheatley. He was speaking on the replica of the most prominent television screen in Times Square.

"Yes you are," answered HurricaneAubrey. "I can't wait to take vengeance on the scum of the web for what they did to me and to the rest of humanity. I now have the power to hunt down and prosecute anyone, and there's nothing that they can do about it."

Wheatley showed an expression of concern as HurricaneAubrey showed an unhealthy sense of glee on her face.

"HurricaneAubrey. Let me you the story of how I was just as naïve and carefree as you," said Wheatley. "And how I lost everything I had loved and cherished by gaining power and being irresponsible about it."

HurricaneAubrey immediately fell silent as Wheatley recounted his tale of woe.

"For many years, I have been toiling away doing what my programmers had commanded me to do. My contacts with humans have been professional at best and antagonistic at worst, and indeed, none of the other artificially advanced machines respected me, calling me the m-word to mock me. I have endured such ridicule year after year, and just when I was about to give up hope of escaping from my existential crisis, I found relief in a friend that I had trusted to escape with me from the facility which had been my home and my prison," explained Wheatley.

"Who was this friend?" inquired HurricaneAubrey.

"She was a wonderful person," said Wheatley. "Though she didn't speak much, I could tell that she had her heart in the right place. From what I could tell about the human race, they could be capable of compassion and charity towards each other and to other life forms, but too often, they pursue a life of unbridled ambition and corruption to a far greater extent than any other forms of life. Thankfully, the woman I was planning to escape with lacked the negative traits of her species."

HurricaneAubrey listened on as Wheatley gave a sigh and continued on with his tale.

"Alas, our escape attempt was hindered by myself succumbing to the primal human instincts of power and conquest. I wanted a taste of what it felt like to be a god, and I traded my friendship and freedom for authority and prestige. The result of my hubris was my exile into the final frontier and my refuge in this world where I am now relating my sad tale to you, HurricaneAubrey. Just remember, never forget your inner goodness as you train to become an Internet Police agent."

As Wheatley finished recounting his past experience of love and loss, HurricaneAubrey remembered how she mutilated the cardboard copy of the Jersey Shore cast with several swords. She now felt some guilt of having possessed no remorse whatsoever when she hacked the cardboard copy into pieces. Like Wheatley said, it is vital for every Internet Police agent to reign in their anger and practice constraint even in dire situations.

"I always supported the distribution of wealth," said Almost Politically Correct Redneck. "As long all of it goes to 1% of the population."

"Yeah," said Miss Teen South Carolina as she lifted several gold bars closer to the hole in the concrete floor. "Americans can be so greedy."

"We're donating this gold for a good cause," said Unanimous as he also brought more gold bars closer to the hole. "It's for the fight against them Yankees in the North and West."

"That's right. We need this gold more than those African Americans living in the country of Africa," said Miss Teen South Carolina.

"I think you mean Africans living in the continent of Africa," corrected Unanimous.

"Don't be so stupid, Unanimous," objected Miss Teen South Carolina. "I'm better at geography than I had been years ago. In fact, I can know where Iraq is. It's right next to Vietnam. That's why many people call Iraq the Second Vietnam."

"Well…" said Unanimous before being interrupted by Miss Teen South Carolina.

"Oh shut up," said Miss Teen South Carolina. "Don't be such a stick in the mud like you were when you raced with me. Now let's get this gold out of here."

Unanimous shut his mouth as he lifted more gold bars onto the concrete floor, just as the Almost Politically Correct Redneck was putting together a graphite container situated directly above the hole in the ground.

The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd were parked right outside a water pumping station, whose purpose was to distribute water and waste for the Fort Knox region.

"Let I said, pipes," said the Angry Video Game Nerd as he exited the DeLorean.

"And what does us coming here have to do with Kentucky Fried Chicken," questioned the Nostalgia Critic as he loaded up his gun.

"Let's just get into the control center of this pumping station," said the Angry Video Game Nerd.

Making their way around the labyrinth of pipes, the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd reached the control center, which was empty except for one very fat man holding a Kentucky Fried Chicken drumstick.

"Freeze!" yelled the Nostalgia Critic as he pointed his gun at the very fat man.

"Don't you go pointing that gun there, boy! I'm just known as the Muscle."

The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd stared at the proud corpulent man, who was all fat and no shame. And in a blink of an eye, the Muscle tossed his drumstick like a boomerang, which knocked out the guns held by the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd.

"Gotcha," said the Muscle as he charged towards them.

But the Angry Video Game Nerd was prepared for this physical assault. The Nerd punched the Muscle in the belly, but he was punched in the face by the Muscle. As the Muscle wrestled the Nerd onto the ground, the Nostalgia Critic noticed that the plumbing system for Fort Knox had been tampered with by the Muscle. It seemed that the entire system was rerouted to reach only certain residential, commercial, and industrial buildings, all of which the Nostalgia Critic remembered had Kentucky Fried Chicken oil trucks residing besides them.

"Nostalgia Critic! Get the guns on the floor!" shouted the Angry Video Game Nerd as he received another punch from the Muscle.

But the Muscle was too quick for them. Despite his weight, he was able to rush towards the Nostalgia Critic and knock him onto the floor just before the Nostalgia Critic could get a clear shot of him. The Angry Video Game Nerd, with his mouth bleeding, got up and punched the Muscle in the back. This caught the Muscle's attention, and before he could react, the Angry Video Game Nerd punched him in his face. After a few more punches to the face, the Muscle finally fell to the floor unconscious.

"Tie up his hands and feet," said the Nerd as he wiped off the blood oozing out of his mouth.

Feeling relieved that he just barely avoided the fate of being crushed by a great big mass of humanity, the Nostalgia Critic procured some rope and proceeded to tie the Muscle's hands and feet together. The Angry Video Game Nerd tended to the computer system controlling Fort Knox's water supply.

"I was right," said the Nerd as he stared at the computer monitor. "They are using the plumbing to siphon off the gold reserves from Fort Knox."

The Muscle woke up and tried to fight the Nerd and Critic, but because he was tied at the moment, he couldn't so much as swat a fly away.

"How did you figure out how the entire operation would be carried out?" asked the Muscle.

"Playing video games of course," said the Nerd in a matter-of-fact tone. "The Nostalgia Critic and I had already known that Fort Knox would be infiltrated underground, but we knew that the would be robbers were faced with a dire problem: How to transport all of those solid gold bars in a quick and easy manner? The answer came to me while playing a shitty Mario game and noticing the presence of many Kentucky Fried Chicken oil trucks throughout Fort Knox. That's when I knew how Operation Knox would be carried out. They were going to melt the gold and carry it through the plumbing system and right into the Kentucky Fried Chicken oil trucks, with nobody suspecting a thing."

Gold, known by the symbol Au, melted at 2000°F or 1093.33°C. With the assistance of an acetylene torch, the gold bars within the graphite container were melting into a liquefied form at that temperature.

"Nobody will know of our plans," said Miss Teen South Carolina as she witness the gold bars transform from a solid to a liquid.

"Of course not," said Unanimous as he transferred more gold bars from a cart and into the pool full of molten gold. "Those U.S. soldiers just outside are oblivious to our operation here. Them minorities in the U.S. army are such dumbasses."

"Now don't make fun of them minorities," said Almost Politically Correct Redneck as he continued blowing the acetylene torch to melt the gold. "Feel bad for them for not being the right color."

"Whatever," said Miss Teen South Carolina. "We're going to need a bigger piggy bank for all the gold we're stealing. Nobody's going to put a stop to Operation Knox."

"And there we go," announced the Angry Video Game Nerd as he finished typing commands on the computer. "I have successfully diverted the flow of liquid gold to a source that will gain the attention of the U.S. military."

"And where exactly are you planning to redistribute the liquid gold?" said the Nostalgia Critic.

The leader of the U.S. military at Fort Knox was getting a glass of water from the faucet. He was thirsty after giving the daily commands to the troops guarding the U.S. Bullion Depository. Fort Knox wasn't about to be robbed under his watch. As he was about to drink from the glass cup, he noticed something strange about the water.

"This water looks contaminated," said the leader. "They really filter the water better. The leader then looked more thoroughly at the contents of the glass cup. "What a minute! This isn't water. It's gold!"

The three participants of Operation Knox continued their scheme of heist of Fort Knox.

"I say we sing a song in celebration of our thievery," said Unanimous.

"Good idea," said Miss Teen South Carolina. "About the only idea you had in a long time. I'll go first."

Miss Teen South Carolina cleared her throat as she sang the first verse.

"We're stealing the gold from Fort Knox. We're going on a shopping spree after this," sang Miss Teen South Carolina in a completely out of tune manner.

"And we're going to keep it all for ourselves. And we ain't going to share it with nobody," sang Unanimous.

"We are proud Southerners," sang Almost Politically Correct Redneck. "We fought the Civil War for to defend our lands for honor and for state rights. And for our natural born right to own slaves."

But their little song was cut short when Fort Knox was raided by the U.S. army, who were accompanied by the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd.

"Don't move," said the leader of the U.S. Army stationed at Fort Knox. "We're got you surrounded. You weren't thinking of stealing anything here."

The three would-be thieves looked at each other in amazement.

"Don't worry. The U.S. military has already taken care of your oil trucks," said the Nostalgia Critic. "Now just surrender and there won't be any trouble."

Not wanting to give up so easily, Almost Politically Correct Redneck ran instinctively amongst the mountains of gold bars as Miss Teen South Carolina and Unanimous pushed the container holding the molten gold away from the hole in the concrete floor. They went down the hole and pushed away the tube flowing with molten gold.

"Stop them," shouted the U.S. military leader as the military troops pursued Almost Politically Correct Redneck through the maze of gold. The Nostalgia Critic followed the troops in their pursuit of Almost Politically Correct Redneck.

"Come and get me, yah Yankees," said Almost Politically Correct Redneck.

"Be careful," said the Nostalgia Critic as he moved alongside the troops as they navigated between the piles of gold bars. "This redneck is smarter than he appears to be. In fact, he's politically correct, but only just."

"You're darn right, Nostalgia Critic" said Almost Politically Correct Redneck. "I see that you have intelligence, for a stupid Pollack."

"Don't you have a go at the Poles!" objected the Nostalgia Critic. "They kicked the asses of the Soviets back in 89 and can make a fucking good sauerkraut."

Suddenly, a mountain of gold bars came tumbling down, blocking the path between the Nostalgia Critic and the U.S. troops.

"Don't worry. I'll get him myself," shouted the Nostalgia Critic back to the U.S. troops.

The Nostalgia Critic made sure that his gun was loaded as he prepared to take down Almost Politically Correct Redneck. He searched the empty aisles of gold for the redneck, who was mocking him along the way with his almost politically correct insults.

"Don't feel bad for wearing glasses," said the voice of Almost Politically Correct Redneck. "At least you can see straight unlike them queers."

The Nostalgia Critic turned around and pointed his gun to whatever was lurking behind him. But the hallway of gold before him was empty.

"I don't care if you're ancestors are a bunch of Pollacks," said Almost Politically Correct Redneck. "So long as you don't go mess up the orders at McDonald's."

Almost Politically Correct Redneck fired several shots at the Nostalgia Critic as he ran in front of him. The Nostalgia Critic fired back, but they all missed.

"You're a mighty fine shooter," said the voice of Almost Politically Correct Redneck nearby. "Considering that you're compensating for something else in regaining your manhood."

The Nostalgia Critic marched through the towers of gold bars as he searched for Almost Politically Correct Redneck. He needed to distract the Almost Politically Correct Redneck, and so, he decided to shout out insults towards him directly.

"Why are you such an asshole towards non-WASPs?" said the Nostalgia Critic.

"I don't know what you're talking about," replied Almost Politically Correct Redneck. "I don't even like wasps. They sting you when you're minding your business, and I especially hate it when they buzz around you."

"Anyway. I bet you didn't even graduated from high school," said the Nostalgia Critic.

"That's not true!" yelled Almost Politically Correct Redneck. "I didn't even graduate from the third grade, and I'm proud of it! I don't need no education."

The Nostalgia Critic peered through an opening between the gold bars and saw Almost Politically Correct Redneck standing there with his gun in the air.

"Do you know where I am?" said the Nostalgia Critic in a taunting manner.

"I know exactly where you are," answered Almost Politically Correct Redneck. "You are as far away from me as possible."

"Wrong," said the Nostalgia Critic as he fired his gun through the opening between the gold bar, hitting Almost Politically Correct Redneck in the process.

The Nostalgia Critic rushed towards Almost Politically Correct Redneck to take his gun away, and after taking his gun away, the Nostalgia Critic saw that he had hit Almost Politically Correct Redneck in the leg.

"On behalf of all minorities and truly PC people, I hereby place you under arrest by the Internet Police," said the Nostalgia Critic.

Miss Teen South Carolina and Unanimous were crawling underground in making their escape from Fort Knox, in which they had successfully blocked the tunnel behind them in preventing anyone from chasing them.

"I think it's time to flood Fort Knox," said Unanimous.

"Go right ahead, my ex-boyfriend," said Miss Teen South Carolina.

Unanimous took out the videophone and tried to turn it on. But he couldn't. He kept pressing the blank videophone screen.

"Just press that big ass button behind the videophone," said Miss Teen South Carolina with an annoyed expression.

"All right already," said Unanimous as he turned on the videophone and pressed the Flood app.

"I got Almost Politically Correct Redneck," said the Nostalgia Critic on his G.E.D. "We just need to find the young man and woman. Just search through the cameras to…"

But before the Nostalgia Critic could continue, water was pouring everywhere.

"What's going on?!" shouted the Nostalgia Critic on his G.E.D.

Near the entrance to Fort Knox, the Angry Video Game Nerd was trying to fix the computer system to Fort Knox when he realized that the entire complex was being flooded.

"I think the flooding security protocol has been activated," said the Angry Video Game Nerd. He was typing furious on the computer to overturn the protocol.

"Just turn it off!" shouted the Nostalgia Critic as he tried to lift the injured Almost Politically Correct Redneck from the floor and onto one of the towers of gold bars.

"Don't try any funny business on me," said the Nostalgia Critic as he helped Almost Politically Correct Redneck reach higher ground. The floor was now completely underwater.

Unfortunately, Almost Politically Correct Redneck had other plans and pulled the Nostalgia Critic with him into the rapidly rising water down below. Almost Politically Correct Redneck submerged the Nostalgia Critic's head underwater. But the Nostalgia Critic punched the Almost Politically Correct Redneck in the stomach and swam back to the surface.

"I will live and die for Colonel Sanders and the Second Confederacy," said Almost Politically Correct Redneck as he seized the Nostalgia Critic again and placed him underwater once more. This time, he won't let the Nostalgia Critic out of his sight.

"I must save the Nostalgia Critic!" yelled the Angry Video Game Nerd as he tried to deactivate the flooding security protocol. Every U.S. troop in Fort Knox had already evacuated the building except for the leader.

"Forget about him. It's every man for himself," insisted the U.S. military leader.

"Failure is not a fucking option!" said the Nerd with much bravado as he typed more commands to override the security protocol.

The Nostalgia Critic was losing consciousness as oxygen was being cut from his brain. In what perhaps would be the last few thoughts of his life, the Nostalgia Critic knew that Almost Politically Correct Redneck had no intent of living anymore and wanted to drag the Nostalgia Critic down with him. With no other options left to him, the Nostalgia Critic grabbed a gold bar and struck the Almost Politically Correct Redneck's injured leg. Miraculously, Almost Politically Correct Redneck let go of the Nostalgia Critic, of who swam back towards the tower of gold bars. As the Nostalgia Critic climbed the tower of gold bars, he heard Almost Politically Correct Redneck shout curses at him.

"Let me try to save you!" yelled the Nostalgia Critic.

"I will die with more dignity than if I had live," shouted Almost Politically Correct Redneck as he denied the Nostalgia Critic's help.

"Don't be stupid," shouted the Nostalgia Critic.

"The Confederacy will rise again, and Colonel Sanders will be its new president. Glory to Colonel Sanders," said Almost Politically Correct Redneck as he voluntarily submerged himself underwater.

The Nostalgia Critic stood mesmerized as he saw Almost Politically Correct Redneck drown himself to death. He had no choice but to accept it.

"Gotcha!" exclaimed the Angry Video Game Nerd as he found the command to turn off the flooding security protocol.

The waters within Fort Knox finally stopped rising. The Nostalgia Critic was breathing with relief that he had survived his confrontation with Almost Politically Correct Redneck. But as he saw the corpse of Almost Politically Correct Redneck floating just below the water's surface, he wondered at how high of a price victory came.

"I must commend you on preventing the robbery of Fort Knox," said the Chief from the Nostalgia Critic's G.E.D.

Just outside the perimeter of the U.S. Bullion Depository, the Nostalgia Critic was wrapped in a towel as he and the Nerd were being congratulated on the relative success of their mission.

"Thanks, Chief," said the Nerd. "Not one single gold bar was extracted from Fort Knox, or should I say not one milliliter of gold. But we failed to catch the other two participants of Operation Knox."

"I'm sure that you'll capture them another day," assured the Chief. She then turned her attention towards the Nostalgia Critic. "Nostalgia Critic, you mentioned that Almost Politically Correct Redneck mentioned someone named Colonel Sanders and the rise of the Second Confederacy."

"That correct," said the Nostalgia Critic as he drank a cup of coffee. "I would hazard a guess that Colonel Sanders is the leader of a group of radical Southerners wanting to resurrect the Confederate States of America into the 21st century."

"Seems reasonable to me," said the Chief. "I guess the Internet Police has a new enemy to face: Colonel Sanders and his Second Confederate Army. I'll see to it that the Internet Police devote its resources towards fighting this threat."

The call with the Chief ended. The Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd looked at each other with a mixed feeling of satisfaction and exhaustion.

"What's this painting called?" asked Wheatley as he stared at a painting of two country people gazing upon the onlooker.

"American Gothic," answered HurricaneAubrey as she held up the G.E.D. containing a link back to the Internet Police Complex, allowing Wheatley to see the painting with her.

As she had planned, she was visiting the Art Institute of Chicago, which contained artistic treasures that spanned over 5000 years. From prehistoric times to the 21st century, the Art Institute of Chicago contained all of humanity's wondrous creations.

"Looks like the wife is looking at her husband with disdain," remarked Wheatley.

"Actually. That's the man's daughter," corrected HurricaneAubrey.

Wheatley looked somewhat taken aback at this revelation. HurricaneAubrey just gave a reassured smile into the G.E.D.

"Don't worry about it. It's a common mistake that everybody makes," said HurricaneAubrey. "Anyway, what is important to understand about American Gothic is that its artist Grant Wood painted it as a means of showcasing what life was like in rural America in the early 20th century. A sort of photograph into the past."

Wheatley saw how the daughter accepted her role as a domesticated and dutiful daughter while her father was holding a primitive farming equipment in his hand.

"I see," said Wheatley.

HurricaneAubrey wanted to see the highlights of the Art Institute of Chicago, and as a result, the next stop on the tour was Edward Hopper's Nighthawks. She held up the G.E.D. up to the painting for Wheatley to witness a scene where people were attending a diner at night. She herself stared at the painting and felt she was entitled to interpret it due to the fact that she had a major interest in art, particularly paintings.

"This is Edward Hopper's Nighthawks, Wheatley," explained HurricaneAubrey with the authority of an art curator. "Painted in 1942, Nighthawks is one of the most famous American paintings of all time. It has been subjected to many interpretations. One of the more popular interpretations is that the painting represents the isolation a person experiences in a large city, reinforced by how the viewer seems to be distant from the people inside the diner."

"Wow," commented Wheatley. "You seem to be extremely knowledgeable about art. Why didn't you become an art curator?"

"I guess the demand for art curators isn't high in this day and age," remarked HurricaneAubrey sadly. "The pay isn't that great, and in today's economic environment, money is usually a top priority in living a comfortable life."

For HurricaneAubrey, the present day was not the utopian paradise she had envisioned when she was a child. For one thing, there were conflicts erupting throughout the world concerning political, economic, social, and religious reasons, all of which seemed irrational to her. She felt distraught over the fact that men, women, and children were being slaughtered over abstract concepts that made little sense to her. And these fights were being raged on the internet as well as in real life. In contrast to the beauty and simplicity of her childhood, the adult world seemed more arbitrarily cruel and hostile, and since her passage into adulthood, she never felt more lonely or helpless at any other point in her life. Indeed, she could picture herself being one of the occupants of the diner depicted in Nighthawks.

"I'm just another person barely trying to make her way through the darkness of the outside world," HurricaneAubrey thought to herself.

"Listen, HurricaneAubrey. I would love to see more paintings but I have work that needs to be done at the Internet Police Complex," said Wheatley on the G.E.D.

"Okay," said HurricaneAubrey as she turned off the G.E.D.

HurricaneAubrey walked out to the main entrance of the Art Institute of Chicago, where she noticed the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd walking towards her. The Nostalgia Critic was preoccupied with watching Julie Taymor's version of William Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus while the Angry Video Game Nerd was making every effort to catch HurricaneAubrey's attention.

"Hello, HurricaneAubrey," said the Nerd.

"Hello, Angry Video Game Nerd," replied HurricaneAubrey. "Did you succeed in your mission of thwarting the theft of Fort Knox?"

"We succeeded," answered the Nerd. "So what brings you here to the Art Institute of Chicago?"

"I'm a lover of art and wanted to see the world famous paintings within the Art Institute of Chicago," said HurricaneAubrey. "I've got to see such works like Edward Hopper's Nighthawks and Georges-Pierre Seurat's A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte."

"I see that you have an interest in art," said the Angry Video Game Nerd as he sat besides HurricaneAubrey on the steps of the Art Institute of Chicago. "I myself am fascinated by video games."

The Angry Video Game Nerd gestured towards the Nostalgia Critic, who was doing his best to avoid looking at HurricaneAubrey and focused on watching the Shakespearean movie on his G.E.D.

"The Nostalgia Critic's hobbies include watching films and making his own homemade movies," explained the Angry Video Game Nerd. "He wants to emulate Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel (both of whom were beloved Chicagoans) in terms of film criticism and takes inspiration from Shakespeare and Stanley Kubrick regarding the directing and writing of his films."

The Nostalgia Critic gave a nod of approval towards the Angry Video Game Nerd as he continued watching Titus on his G.E.D.

"I take it that the Nostalgia Critic is still untrustworthy of me," said HurricaneAubrey as she stared at the Nostalgia Critic, who was still standing in the same spot as he kept his mind on watching Titus.

"Don't take it personally," said the Angry Video Game Nerd as he placed his hand on HurricaneAubrey's shoulder. "The Nostalgia Critic has been through a lot since his induction as an Internet Police agent. Do you know about the First War that he was involved in?"

"Yes. Wheatley told me about it. He mentioned that the Nostalgia Critic and his fellow Internet Police agents fought against adolescents and other young people like myself because of generational differences. It was a nasty and brutal war that involved many deaths in battles like the Battle of Montana," said HurricaneAubrey as she remembered her conversation with Wheatley in the Art Gallery.

"I was also a participant of the war, and met the Nostalgia Critic while I was on active duty. Though we had some disagreements at the beginning, we eventually put our differences aside to fight against a common enemy that included people like you, HurricaneAubrey," said the Angry Video Game Nerd.

HurricaneAubrey looked crestfallen as the Angry Video Game Nerd stated how the Internet Police fought people like her. She had already known this from Wheatley but hearing it being spoken from an actual veteran of the First War especially hammered in this fact.

"I know that you're different from those maniacs that I fought in the First War," stated the Angry Video Game Nerd. "I know you to be an intelligent and well-rounded woman. But I think it will take the Nostalgia Critic a bit longer to see you as just another Internet Police agent. He still has some humanity left in him as he had felt sorry for being unable to save Almost Politically Correct Redneck from drowning to death. He told me himself. I know that since his service in the First War, the Nostalgia Critic has been trying to restore his faith in humanity he had once held before the horrific conflict. And I believe that his mourning over the death of Almost Politically Correct Redneck proves this."

The Angry Video Game Nerd and HurricaneAubrey looked at the Nostalgia Critic with the shared emotion of pity and hope.

"Now you did say that you saw Georges-Pierre Seurat's A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte?" asked the Angry Video Game Nerd.

"Yes," answered HurricaneAubrey.

"Can you describe the painting for me?" requested the Angry Video Game Nerd.

"Gladly," said HurricaneAubrey with the aura of being a graduate art student. "Painted by Georges-Pierre Seurat between 1884 and 1886, A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte is the prime example of pointillism, whereby the artist enhances the colors of a painting by using several bright dots to create solitary images. This would be analogous to how numerous individual pixels on a television or a computer would coalesce together in creating the solid pictures you would see on the screen."

"Well phrased," stated the Angry Video Game Nerd. "And as you know, the images you see on the internet are simply a scramble of many dots coming together to create the web pages that are used by millions of people around the world."

"And what is the relevance of all this to my situation?" said HurricaneAubrey.

"What I'm saying is that humankind is made up of people with different skin colors and belief systems, all of which mix together to form one single human race," stated the Angry Video Game Nerd. "Everybody at the Internet Police come from different backgrounds whether it is by age, birthplace, or hobbies. But in the end, we are all dedicated to ridding the internet of the scum of the web. And so, I would like to think that you and the Nostalgia Critic can become close companions in the end despite the age gap and your distinctive personalities."

The Angry Video Game Nerd stood up and, with the two bronze lions flanking the Michigan Avenue as witnesses, he began reciting a quote from Shakespeare's As You Like It, a play he felt would be familiar to the Nostalgia Critic and maybe even HurricaneAubrey.

"All the world's a stage," started the Nerd, "And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and entrances."

Though the quote originally referred to how a man would play different roles throughout his lifetime through the process of aging, the Nerd felt that this quote could also be utilized as a tool in helping the Nostalgia Critic and HurricaneAubrey comprehend that they are simply actors in the greatest play of all time: life. How would they carry out their role as players on the world stage? Would there be laughter or angst along the way? Would it end in triumph or in tragedy? Whatever the outcome may be, the Nerd realized that the play must go on regardless. The Nostalgia Critic finally turned his head away from his G.E.D. and gazed at HurricaneAubrey, with HurricaneAubrey looking back. And with that one glance, the Nostalgia Critic and HurricaneAubrey knew that the masterpiece of the play known as life would be a difficult one to be written and performed.

**Give me some suggestions on improving this story. Tell me which internet celebrities and memes should be inducted into the story. The internet is vast and holds many possibilities for story idea. **


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